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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24054445">Familial Bonds (and How to Break Them)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoodoo/pseuds/Hoodoo'>Hoodoo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Beetlejuice (1988), Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown &amp; King</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abandonment, Accidental summoning, Accusations, Admitting hurt, Animated GIFs, Assault, Beetlejuice is based on Blumjuice, Beetlejuice speaks Latin, Breaking and Entering, Care, Caretaking, Catholicism, Clones, Coitus Interruptus, Dark deals, Demonic Possession, Demonology, Deserts, Dirty Thoughts, Don't Say His Name, Epilogue, Español | Spanish, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fanart, Fear, Fighting, Fingerfucking, Flirting, Hellmouth, Holy Water, Hurt feelings, Kissing, LONG CHAPTER, Las Vegas, Latin, Lingerie, Masturbation, New Demon, New demons, Office, Oral Sex, Other family members - Freeform, Panties, Penis In Vagina Sex, Possession, Public Masturbation, Red Tape, Ritzy hotels, Road Trip, Sex, Sex with a demon, Stealing Panties, Straight To Hell, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, The Netherworld, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Violence, Wounds, despising each other, different positions, dying, forbidden books, mother - Freeform, shower, stealing clothes, supplemental stories afterward, vibrating panties</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:49:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>56,451</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24054445</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoodoo/pseuds/Hoodoo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A woman accidently summons Beetlejuice, and if that weren't enough, she accidently summons others that are even worse.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice)/Original Character(s), Beetlejuice/Originial Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>105</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>105</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This lengthy story is based on an rp <a href="https://turtlepated.tumblr.com/">turtlepated</a> and I did over the course of a few months.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pate sighed, shifting the heavy sealed plastic box in her arms as she padded down the dimly lit hallway. It was long after closing time at the archives, but her boss had wheedled her into staying late to assess some new arrivals. She shouldered open the swinging door into a restoration office, depositing her load on a sterile work bench and gathering up supplies: pen and notebook, cotton gloves to protect the delicate velum pages, the assorted cleaning tools, and laying them neatly at her station before opening the box. Inside were half a dozen leather bound volumes, purchased by her boss on a recent trip to Europe. She lifted them out one by one and looked them over, judging that most were in decent enough shape to be worth salvaging. </p><p>One, she noted with a puzzled frown, appeared to be in the worst condition of the lot. And strangest of all, there was a thick metal clasp complete with an ancient padlock holding the book shut.</p><p>She set the padlocked tome aside and quickly made notations and catalogued the other books, banal volumes of religious writings for the most part, and in good enough shape not to require much attention from her. Finally she was left with only the poorly locked book, taking it gently in her gloved hands and turning it around to get a better look. From what she could tell at a cursory inspection of the cracked and worm-eaten spine, it appeared to be a collection of astronomical dissertations. </p><p>She tried the lock, tugging on it as sharply as she dared with the state of the book.</p><p>⁂</p><p>Out of the ether, a deep thrumming startled him. It was almost too faint to be felt at first, but it grew in intensity.</p><p>"There's something I never expected to feel again," Beetlejuice thought, shaking his head of the literal cobwebs.</p><p> ⁂</p><p>The rusty lock refused to give, and Pate gave it one more frustrated rattle against the metal loop. She had just decided to simply discard the thing into the shelf of other moldering texts when, with no warning, the centuries-old binding ripped free and the entire block slid right out of the leather coverings. Heart leaping into her throat, Pate just managed to catch it before it hit the ground, cradling the bundle of loose leaves against her chest as she set the now empty cover back on the bench. </p><p>"Shit, Paul's gonna kill me," she grumbled.</p><p> ⁂</p><p>A minor jolt went through him, like someone had run their warm, living fingers down his spine. It was just a fleeting touch, but he grinned.</p><p> ⁂</p><p>Sighing harshly, Pate lay the block on the table and examined the most recent damage with a twinge of guilt. The backing and both end papers had completely torn away from the block, still hanging on the cover. She frowned at the exposed title page, wrinkled by long-dried water, the ink faded and difficult to make out. It took a few minutes to discern the title stamped into the parchment, but as best as she could tell the book was entitled <i>"Ens entium collectio infernalia".</i> Since her forte was restoring old books and not reading or translating them, she turned to Google. </p><p>"Being a collection of entities most infernal," she read aloud from her phone screen. But wasn't this a book about astronomy?  </p><p>Frowning in thought, Pate pulled the text block closer and began leafing through the pages. They came away stiff, some sticking together after who knew how much time spent with the book tightly shut and locked. She carefully separated pages from one another, eyes roving writing that she could not read. Instead of star charts or graphs, there were woodcut illustrations of monstrous creatures, hand-drawn sigils in iron gall ink that had browned with age. </p><p>"What the hell...?" Pate murmured to herself, flipping the block closed and reaching for the empty boards that once held it all together. </p><p>Something caught her eye on the back cover, where the pastedown ripped harshly when the block detached from the spine. There appeared to be another page tucked under the end paper.</p><p>Peeling away the pastedown, Pate took hold of the folded corner of parchment and gently tugged it free, not wanting to risk ripping it before she got a look at it. It was folded several times over, so she pushed the text block and cover across the workbench to have room to lay it down and open it out. Going slowly, the parchment crinkling like dead leaves each time she touched it, Pate carefully unfolded the bit of parchment to reveal a page. It looked different to the simple black and white woodblock illustrations in the book; this was in color, and appeared to have been rendered by hand. It depicted a male figure dressed in a strange black and white striped tunic and leggings. On his face was a devilish grin, a peculiar pointed tongue protruding from between his leering lips. The unkempt hair on his head had been colored green, and he appeared to be holding some sort of bizarre black and white snake with two heads? Pate's eyes narrowed as she leaned closer to inspect it, though it was hardly the strangest medieval illumination she'd ever seen. Next to the grinning, green haired person in his striped garments were a few lines of slightly smeared text.</p><p> ⁂</p><p>Beetlejuice shivered. That was closer. <i>That was closer.</i></p><p> ⁂</p><p>Pate squinted harder at the splotchy lines of ink, trying to make sense of it or at least figure out what language it was written in. One thing she was certain of: this page had been torn from a completely different book that the one she found it in. It was much older, smaller than the pages of the rest of the text block. And why had someone gone to the trouble of hiding it? Whoever had written... whatever was written next to the strange illumination had very shaky handwriting, which didn't make it any easier to decipher. </p><p>"Bhet el.... What's that last thing there?" She thumbed through the internet browser on her phone, comparing text to find a match. "Bhet, el, juz? Is that it?"</p><p> ⁂</p><p>"Oh, shit," he groaned. This was happening? Out of nowhere, this was happening?!</p><p> ⁂</p><p>Sitting back in her chair, Pate took the torn-out page and held it at arms' length, pondering the three peculiar syllables and wondering why they sounded familiar. </p><p>"Bhet el juz…." she murmured. It does sound different, taking a shorter pause between. It was on the tip of her tongue, teasing at the outermost edge of recognition.</p><p>⁂</p><p>
  <i>Oh fuck</i>
</p><p>Electricity flooded him, making him jitter. It had to be a joke, couldn't be true; he rocked on the balls of his feet, which helped release some nervous energy and also shifted his involuntarily hard-on to a more comfortable position behind his fly.</p><p>⁂</p><p>Sighing tiredly, Pate laid the page back on the workbench and looked at the time on her phone. Had she really spent an hour and a half picking apart the enigma of the locked book? And what had she really learned? Snorting softly through her nose, Pate wheeled the chair forward to prop her elbows atop the bench, resting her chin in her hand and regarding the striped tongue snaking out of the figure's mouth.</p><p>"Bheteljuz, what's your deal, huh?" she asked no one.</p><p>At least the dirt on his pants would hide the wet spot if he came right here and now. Like a grappling hook had been driven into his gut, he was pulled through the ether to whomever called him.</p><p>When he landed, bent knees and feeling better than he'd had in forever, he threw his arms out and shouted, <i>"Suus 'showtime!"</i></p><p>There was a breather here, of course, surrounded by dusty books. </p><p><i>"Quis es?"</i> he asked excitedly, eager to meet this woman who so thoughtfully released him. <i>"Gratias tibi! Gratias tibi tam! Fortuna, suus 'sit bonum, de iterum.Quis es tibi nomen?"</i></p><p>Pate frowned at a sudden, short lived gust of wind that ruffled the torn out page and whipped loose tendrils of hair around her face, but before she had time to wonder at it a sudden voice made her yelp and spin in her chair so fast that she nearly tipped right over. </p><p>Standing before her was quite possibly the strangest looking person she'd ever seen:  a man dressed in a rather shabby and grimy looking black-and-white-striped suit, a tangled rat's nest of verdant green hair on his head and a broad, toothy grin on his face. She blinked stupidly, sure that she must be seeing things. </p><p>"Who... who are you?" she asked, pausing to clear her throat when the question came out a tad squeaky. "How'd you get in here?"</p><p>Beetlejuice shook his head.</p><p>"ENGLISH," he crowed, like he'd solved a mystery. "I saw the books and thought some goddamn alchemist had called me up again, but the fluorescent lights should've given it away."</p><p>He took a parody breath, like this air was fresh and clean, and gave his best grin to the breather. The one that he hoped didn't look too much like he wanted to take a bite out of someone.</p><p>"What's your name, beautiful?"</p><p>Completely taken aback, Pate answered without even thinking, </p><p>"My name... I'm Pate, but... Who-?" </p><p>She cut herself off, answering her own question even as she asked it, glancing from the illumination on the orphaned page to the man standing before her and making the connection. </p><p>"This is... Is this you?" she asked, holding it up to show him.</p><p>He grabbed it out of her hand for a closer look, breaking into a wider grin.</p><p>"Oh yeah, baby, that's me! Good thing someone beautiful and smart called me up! So. What's your pleasure? Who do I have to kill?"</p><p>Pate's eyebrows shot up, her mouth falling open. </p><p>"Kill?" she squeaked. "No! Nobody! What? Called you? How?" </p><p>Questions spun through her mind too fast for her tongue to keep up and she leaned against the bench, tenting her fingers together and pressing them to her face as she breathed deeply. </p><p>"Ooookay, this is obviously some sort of.... stress-induced hallucination."</p><p>His brow wrinkled.</p><p>"Nobody ever wants me to kill anybody," he groused. "Hey. Hey. Pate? Sweetie, you don't look so good. Almost as pale as me! Why don'tcha sit down, m'kay? Don't need a smart one like you falling over and injuring that big brain of yours."</p><p>He stepped up to take her elbow, and really fought down the urge to give her a peek at his brain and its resident maggots, to demonstrate the worst that could happen.</p><p>Pate peeked out from behind her hands enough to see him take a step closer, one hand extending towards her in an admittedly non-threatening way but she couldn't contain the tiny frightened gasp that escaped her as she backed a step away, bumping into her chair and sending it skittering across the linoleum floor. </p><p>"That's.... ahem… It's fine, I'm fine," she said, making an effort to keep her voice conversationally polite even while her mind was screaming, overwrought and uncomprehending of what was happening. "Now you said I called you? How, exactly?"</p><p>Beetlejuice frowned. "Come on, beaut. I said you were smart! You picked up my flyer. Where was it?" He spied the destroyed book and picked some of it up. "Oh! Ens entium collectio infernalia". Good old Deitrich Fuchs. Herr Fucks had to hide this book so the church didn't know it was about demons." </p><p>He chuckled. "Herr Fuchs," he repeated, like a 12-year-old boy. Then he shook himself and got back to the question at hand.</p><p>"You read my flyer--such a sweet voice, like a nightingale!--and here I am, the Netherworld's leading, and only, bio-exorcist, at your service. Don't confuse me for a genie, though. Those guys think they're so great, what with that fucking Disney movie making them out to be fun and funky playmates, but a couple of things. One, they stink. Cooped up in a lamp? Come one. Two. They're cranky assholes, because you guessed it: they're stuck in lamps. Three? They can't show you the same kind of good time that I can, baby. If you catch my drift. And I think you do."</p><p>He clicked his tongue and winked.</p><p>"So if I'm not killing anyone, is that what you're after? I can most certainly accommodate you there too. There's usually this other guy that gets called more than me, but you've obviously got better taste calling me instead."</p><p>There was definitely a tension headache working its way into her temples as Pate blinked dumbly at the onslaught of words, only half of which her brain managed to process and understand. His flyer? Had he hidden the page in the book himself? But if that were the case... Like a lightbulb switching on, it suddenly clicked. That word! Bhetlejuz! She couldn't explain how, not even to herself, but somehow or another saying it out loud had brought him here! But from where? </p><p>Before a new flood of questions had time to wash over her, his innuendo filtered into her consciousness and she stiffened, mortified to feel warmth in her face that she hoped the overhead fluorescence would bleach out before he noticed. Clearing her throat, she made a valiant effort to steer the conversation back to a more ... professional topic. </p><p>"Wait, are you saying you actually knew the author? But that would make you ..." She did the math in her head, guestimating the age of the tome itself. "Almost five hundred years old?"</p><p>He didn't miss the color that rose in her cheeks.</p><p>"Now you're looking a little flushed, sugar," he remarked, and sidled closer again, even though she'd rebuffed him before. His voice dropped. "It looks good on you. I'd be interested in seeing if that pretty blush shows up anywhere else . . ."</p><p>He cleared his throat and twisted his hips just a tad; it'd been a while since he'd been near, well, anyone, and having a raging boner wouldn't endear him to her! She didn't look like she'd appreciate a femur as a joke at the moment, either. He switched topics, for her sake.</p><p>"Let's table that and revisit it later, okay? Your question about Herr . . . Fuchs? Christ that guy should've changed his name. Nice guy. Nervous. Well, he would've been tortured and probably drawn and quartered, so I guess he had reason to me. But yeah! Well, I'm more like six hundred-ish, but what's a century or two?"</p><p>Her blush only deepened when he called her out because of course he'd noticed.... She tensed at the close proximity and the blatant flirting, but she still had questions. </p><p>"This book," she said, turning to the side to heft the flayed text block into her hands. "Did you say it was about demons? How did Fuchs know about them?" </p><p>Pate ignored the snicker at the author's name. "Did you help him write it?" Her curiosity was getting the better of her now, replacing the fear and the uncertainty of this whole strange turn of events.</p><p>"How the Fuchs indeed," he chortled. Her query sobered him up a little bit, however. "I'm not at huge liberty to divulge past summoner's requests. Well, mainly I don't want to. I will say that now that I think about it, Fuchs might have earned that surname fair and square. Foolin' around with a demon--even one as handsome as myself--would also earn you a stake in the middle of a bonfire, if you know what I mean."</p><p>Despite herself, Pate couldn't help but chuckle at the idea of a demon abiding by a client confidentiality clause. This whole ordeal was simply too surreal, part of her still wondered if she wasn't dreaming. </p><p>"I suppose that's understandable," she conceded. </p><p>The sound of voices filtering down the hall interrupted her chain of thought. Someone was coming! But who'd be here at this time of night? Pate fumbled for her phone and checked the time. </p><p>"Holy shit! It's almost 7! The first shift is coming in!" She turned, looking from the dismantled tome to the demon leaning against the work bench.</p><p>"Oh . . . were you doing something naughty down here you don't want them to find?" Beetlejuice asked. Then something occurred to him. "Wait! It's me, isn't it!"</p><p>"Well, not to be blunt, but yes! Can you... I dunno, hide or something?" she asked, scooping up the flier and the sad remnants of the demon bestiary.</p><p>"Why would I want to hide this prime specimen of demonhood?" he retorted, offended. Seeing the panic on her face, however, he downgraded his response. "Don't worry that pretty little head of yours, sugar. I can be discreet."</p><p>Pate rolled her eyes at his bravado, sliding the text block carefully back into its cover and stashing the whole thing in her bag. It was unlikely to be missed, but it wasn't something she wanted to leave lying around. And, if she were honest with herself, she was fascinated by it and unable to resist the temptation of taking it home for a closer look. </p><p>Bheteljuz, which she assumed now must be his name, was nowhere in sight when she next looked but she got the distinct impression that he hadn't gone far. </p><p>The first shift crew came in then, surprised to see her still in the office but not enough to raise alarm bells. Gripping the strap of her shoulder bag protectively in both hands, Pate did her best to play it cool and bid them all goodnight, exiting the parking lot with a stolen 15th century book of demonology and an invisible demon? ghost? man? at her heels. </p><p>
  <i>tbc</i>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Somewhere between twenty minutes and twenty years later, Pate let herself into her apartment and shut the door behind her, leaning heavily against it with a long sigh. This had certainly been the longest and strangest night of her entire life, but she was really starting to feel the fatigue and her temples still throbbed painfully. Lifting her bag off her shoulder she carried it to her bedroom, her feet dragging tiredly.</p>
<p>"Hey. Hey!" Beetlejuice complained as he squeezed into her apartment behind her. "I don't need the door, but not holding it for me? RUDE."</p>
<p>Pate gasped softly, jolted back to awareness of her houseguest by his exclamation.</p>
<p>"Oh, shit, I'm sorry!" she immediately apologized. "I...erm, sort of forgot you were back there. Make yourself comfortable, I guess. I'm... probably gonna go to bed..."</p>
<p>With narrowed eyes, he stared at her just a moment longer than polite, then he grinned widely.</p>
<p>"Comfortable, huh? I think I'd be most comfortable in that bed with you sugar."</p>
<p>She gulped, mortified to feel a blush creeping into her face once again on account of him. Clutching her bag against her middle like a canvas shield, she had to admit that there was something about him she found undeniably attractive. And he certainly was charming and apparently devoid of anything like a filter.</p>
<p>But still, she hesitated, trying to think while a fluttery sensation filled her stomach.</p>
<p>"I'm flattered," she said, finally willing herself to meet his eyes. "But I don't know if that's a good idea, Bheteljuz."</p>
<p>He'd grinned even wider at how flustered she was. She was cute. His smile faded and he winced at the use of his full name. He struggled to bring a natural, easy set to his face.</p>
<p>Pate frowned at the grimace that crossed his face, quick as a flickering light, but the smile he wore now look strained around the edges.</p>
<p>"Are you okay?" she asked, a little surprised herself to find that she did feel genuinely concerned.</p>
<p>"I'm doing fine," he lied. "Summoning nausea. You know. Standard stuff." </p>
<p>He twisted his face into what he hoped was less pained and more excited.</p>
<p>"Which way to the boudoir?"</p>
<p>Pate quirked an eyebrow at him. He was definitely acting strange. Well, stranger. She had a bit of an idea what it might be, but first she'd need to do a little experimentation. </p>
<p>"It's right through there," she said, pointing out her bedroom door. "Look around if you want, but I still plan to go to sleep <i>alone."</i> </p>
<p>She emphasized the word, hoping it sounded firmer than she felt. Leaving him to his own devices, she shut herself in the bathroom to change.</p>
<p>Faced with another door shutting him out, he briefly considered slipping through that one too. But it was more interesting for the moment to wander in her apartment. He ran his fingers over the spines of the books he found, rifled through her mail, and rooted through her refrigerator.</p>
<p>With a satisfied grin to himself, he settled onto her couch. He'd seen the way she'd looked at him. She couldn't deny his roguish charm.</p>
<p>Pate stood at the sink, toothbrush hanging out of her mouth, staring pensively at the water going down the drain. Her temples were still aching, but for the moment she was focusing on how to suss out whatever Beetlejuice was up to. She rinsed out her mouth, turned off the faucet, and prepared to test her theory.</p>
<p>She half expected to find him sprawled across her bed when she opened the bathroom door, but it was mercifully vacant. Taking a deep breath, fighting down the nerves squirming in her gut, she stepped out into the living room, looking up expectantly when she paused in the doorway. Here goes, she thought. </p>
<p>"How's your nausea, <i>Bheteljuz?"</i></p>
<p>He jumped and was on his feet at the mild electric shock that coursed through him through the use of his name. He tried to play it off as 'happy to see you', and not 'alarmed'.</p>
<p>"Babydoll, you gotta give me fair warning when you're gonna surprise me like that! Especially if you've gotten ready for bed, and are just going to ask if I'd be so kind as to join you. To which, of course, I would graciously accept, and rock your world."</p>
<p>The sensation that her stomach was full of wriggling things increased at the lascivious look on his face and Pate cleared her throat, crossing her arms over her chest self-consciously and wishing that she hadn't already put on her night shirt before coming out here for her little experiment. Flustered but undeterred, she pressed onward.</p>
<p>"Bheteljuz!"</p>
<p>Immediately the teasing was gone. He had two options: begging, or --</p>
<p>“Be very careful about what you say next, babydoll," Beetlejuice said in a low voice. He dropped his chin and looked at Pate from under his brows. "You called up a demon, remember?"</p>
<p>Her breath stalled in her throat. For the first time since their unconventional meeting, Beetlejuice actually looked rather demonic; glowering at her with eyes that seemed to be faintly glowing, his voice coming out in a warning growl. She'd be lying if she said it didn't make her heart thump just a little harder against her ribs, but she'd come this far. Either her theory was right or it was wrong, and she was about to find out one way or another. She swallowed once more and sucked in a breath. </p>
<p>"Bhe-"</p>
<p>"Hey!" he interrupted. As quickly as the threat had come, he dropped it.</p>
<p>"Hey hey hey, sugar, baby, babydoll," he cooed, with a nervous laugh. "Just let's wait a sec. Talk things over! Take a step back, reassess, and make well-informed decisions here. Why don't you table that thought--and I'm sure it was a good one, coming from such a pretty, intelligent woman such as yourself--and we'll pretend none of this unpleasantness ever happened. What'd ya say? Hmm?"</p>
<p>Pate blinked, taken aback by his complete behavioral 180, but it seemed to confirm her theory. </p>
<p>"So that's how it works," she mused, mostly to herself but loudly enough for him to hear. "Your name is the key. I said your name three times back in the office and that's how I summoned you."</p>
<p>She brushed a hand absently through her hair, reasoning it out, rubbing at her throbbing temple. "So if I say your name three more times, it... sends you away, doesn't it?”</p>
<p>It was times like this that reminded him of why he preferred to deal with dumb ghosts. Beggars can't be choosers, though . . .</p>
<p>Beetlejuice laughed again; hopefully less forced this time but at this point, he couldn't even tell.</p>
<p>"You, ah, caught me, babydoll. Saw right through me. Should've known you would figure it out . . . well, you're brainy. So yeah. Three times again and I'm out. I'd . . . well, I mean, it'd be nice if . . ." His voice trailed off, pathetically. </p>
<p>A hangdog expression may work where threats and begging hadn't, so he looked sad and worried.</p>
<p>Nodding her understanding, Pate hummed thoughtfully to herself. He looked so despondent, her having sniffed out his secret, and she did feel a twinge of guilt for jerking him along just to satisfy her own curiosity. She flashed him a sheepish smile.</p>
<p> "Well, I sure don't wanna send you away accidentally, so I ought to call you something else. D'you have a nickname?"</p>
<p>He gave a visible sigh of relief, then smiled brightly at her.</p>
<p>"You're an absolute doll," he complimented, and tried not to make it sound creepy. Taking a second to think about her question, he finally had to admit, "I don't usually get to stick long enough to warrant a nickname. Anything from your mouth is going to sound good, sugar."</p>
<p>That time it did border on the creep again.</p>
<p>Pate's own grin widened and she had to laugh. Was flirting the way he breathed? Did he breathe at all? Either way, she took a moment to think over what to call him, coming up with a few ideas to throw out and see which he preferred. </p>
<p>"How about BJ?"</p>
<p>"Oh baby . . . I do love a good BJ."</p>
<p>She blushed again, then sighed. </p>
<p>"I blame myself," she muttered. "Beej. I'm gonna call you Beej, if that works?"</p>
<p>He rolled that around a little in his head.</p>
<p>"Yeah, that'll work. You missed a prime opportunity for a good, 'that's what she said,' though," he grinned and licked his lips. </p>
<p>His gaze darted down her; in the worry of the whole name thing he'd almost forgotten she had changed for bed.</p>
<p>Pate scoffed, stifling a yawn. </p>
<p>"Nah, I was setting it up for you," she insisted, circling the pads of her fingers against her temple, which was still pounding away. "Anyway, you can watch TV if you want, I'm beat so I'm heading to bed."</p>
<p>To his delight, her oversized shirt rode up a little to the tops of her thighs as she rubbed her head.</p>
<p>"Looks like maybe you need a nice massage," he offered, cracking his knuckles. "I promise if you let me give you a good rub down, you'd forget all about that headache you seem to be having . . ."</p>
<p>Tingling heat shot like an electric current from her scalp all the way to her toes, leaving goosebumps in its wake. She was suddenly keenly aware of just how exposed she was, somehow feeling more naked than if she weren't wearing anything at all. </p>
<p>Tugging ineffectively at the hem of her nightshirt, Pate swallowed with some effort and replied, "Thanks for the offer, Beej, but, um.... rain check?" </p>
<p>She backed into her bedroom, fumbling for the door with backward swipes to keep the leering demon in sight as she moved to cower behind the door. </p>
<p>"Good night, then," she squeaked awkwardly through the narrowing aperture, closing the door with a soft click.</p>
<p>
  <i>tbc</i>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Alone again. That little habit was something he was going to have to convince her to break. There was nothing preventing him from just joining her, aside from the casual threat of calling his name and banishing him. He'd need to get further into her good graces to prevent that from happening, so barging into her bedroom probably wasn't the best idea in the world at the moment.</p>
<p>Having done a cursory exploration of her apartment, Beetlejuice wandered up to the roof of the building. It was a nice enough night, with dawn lightening the sky. Just being out should've been enough for him, but the brainy little breather had gotten him both hot and bothered. His name from her lips imprinted her voice on him. It didn't help she was cute too, and parading around in a shirt and panties?! Tease! Of course, she had no way of knowing he hadn't gotten laid in he couldn't remember how long -- and he'd deny his forced celibacy if asked! -- so she obviously didn't think anything of it.</p>
<p>Beetlejuice palmed himself though the front of his trousers. With the exception of the worry she was going to banish him, his cock had been semi-erect since he'd arrived. He squeezed a little harder, wondering how much a creep it made him if he whipped it out right here, when Pate's voice caught his attention. </p>
<p>He went to the edge of the roof and looked over; there was a small balcony below him, and an open sliding door that must lead to her bedroom. She was talking to herself . . . he couldn't exactly make out what, but imagining her slipping into her bed with that ridiculous shirt on, and it riding up, and it getting annoying so she took it off, and then she was just in satin panties, and then what's the use of panties if the rest of you is nude, and then she's naked in her bed, and then, then-- </p>
<p>His cock had paid rapt attention to his dirty mind. It pressed awkwardly on his fly, begging for some fresh air, and he forgot about being a creep and with quick fingers, opened his trousers and wrapped his hand around his cock.</p>
<p>It wasn't as if he hadn't masturbated lately, but jerking off in the open, in the living world, with a gorgeous woman like ten feet away? That made his cock even harder and his hand quicker. Pulling tight when his fist got to the head and loosening when it was near the base, Beetlejuice groaned lightly in time with his hand.</p>
<p>He wondered what Pate would think--that he was gross, that he was perverted? Would she maybe think it was hot, her name on his lips, fucking his own hand imagining it was her? That'd be something, wouldn't it -- she'd be shocked, then aroused. Maybe she'd watch, then get antsy and want to help . . . her hand on his cock, stroking him . . . then maybe she'd want to feel it in her mouth? That thought made him buck awkwardly and moan a little louder. Her tongue on his shaft, his cock in her mouth--he wouldn't leave her hanging; he'd stop before he came and return the favor. He imagined what her pussy would taste like, and one step further: what sublime ecstasy it would be to slide his cock into her cunt, and fuck her --</p>
<p>His hand substituting for her pussy jerked at a frenzied pace, and in very little time, like he was a horny teenager, his pleasure reached its peak. Also like a horny teenager, his orgasm was fueled by the thought of a woman, and he came in a ropy spurt that arced over the side of the roof. He couldn't care about that; euphoria had taking over his body and he rode it out, until the last of his ejaculate dribbled over his fist. He did his best to keep quiet, but wasn't sure if he succeeded.</p>
<p>Finally, when the waves of pleasure rolled to a stop, Beetlejuice groaned and wiped his face. His hand and dick were a sticky mess. He'd get back to Pate's apartment and find something to clean himself up with. Glancing over the side of the roof, he noted with a grimace he'd managed to christen her balcony with his jizz. Maybe he'd try to clean that up tomorrow, before she noticed. Without even tucking himself away, he snuck back inside.</p>
<p>⁂</p>
<p>Pate was exhausted. She should have dropped off to sleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, but she lay awake, her brain turning the series of unforeseen events over and over. The book of demons, her unanticipated house guest, and this damnable headache! Part of her thought mournfully of Beetlejuice's offer and whether she ought to take him up on it.</p>
<p>Despite all the distractions, she eventually sank into a fitful sleep. At least partly aware that she was dreaming but unable to hold onto any details of what she saw or experienced, Pate tossed and turned, moaning, "Rijl Jauzah al Yusrā". Through it all her temples continued to pound. As if from out of dense fog, she thought that perhaps another voice were moaning in time with her, but it may have been her imagination.</p>
<p>After what seemed like hours her eyes opened again and she sat up with a resigned sigh. She wasn't going to be doing any sleeping today. She cut a glance to the dresser, where her bag sat with the <i>Collectio Infernalia</i> waiting. Oddly it felt as though an invisible string were tugging her gently towards the book. </p>
<p>Switching on her lamp, Pate swung her legs out of bed, crossed to the dresser to retrieve the tome, and returned to sit cross-legged on the bed with the book in her lap. She slid it carefully out of the locked covers and lightly traced her fingertips down the title page. Even though she couldn't read the Latin script, she flipped idly through the book.</p>
<p>⁂</p>
<p>He'd found a towel in the kitchen and wiped himself up, then shoved it back into the drawer he'd found it in. Once again he considered peeking in on his reluctant hostess, but decided not to push his luck. Instead he settled onto her couch and let his mind drift a little.</p>
<p>His ears perked up when he heard her shifting around. It sounded like she'd gotten up? But then went back to bed? He pushed himself off the couch and padded to her bedroom door, where he found soft light shining from under it.</p>
<p>He grinned. She was awake! Maybe she'd like some company . . .</p>
<p>⁂</p>
<p>Pate found her mind clouding as she thumbed carefully through the aged pages, lost in the rhythm of the throbbing in her head and the fluttering of the pages turning. Her eyes burned, her eyelids heavy but unable to close, the woodblock prints that must depict the demons Fuchs had written about blurred by her tiredness. </p>
<p>She turned another page and was surprised to see that the image was sharp and clear, her exhaustion wiped away and her headache abruptly gone. Intrigued, she held the book closer and scrutinized the illustration since she couldn't read the text. But there was one phrase she was able to construe: </p>
<p><i>"Rijl Jauzah al Yusrā."</i> </p>
<p>She read the words aloud in a murmur to herself. Hadn't she heard those words in her dream? She watched as her fingers traced the illustration, presumably of the demon in question, on the opposite page. As if in a daze Pate heard her voice and felt her mouth moving even though she was not consciously willing it to do so: </p>
<p>
  <i>"Rijl Jauzah al Yusrā."</i>
</p>
<p>⁂</p>
<p>Beetlejuice heard her mumbling to herself. It wasn't the most clear through a door, but it had the odd cadence of someone trying to wrap their mouth around words they weren't familiar with. That made him cock his head and listen harder, and a chill from the depths of the Netherworld filled him.</p>
<p>⁂</p>
<p>Her heart was beating a little harder in her chest, the fingers of fear reaching sluggishly down from her brain into her chest, squeezing her lungs as if trying to prevent her from saying the words again. </p>
<p>The space around her felt heavy suddenly, like before a thunderstorm and she began panting shallowly as though unable to get enough air. Regardless of her own mounting apprehension, it was as though a hand grasped her delicately by the chin and opened her mouth while another pressed flat and firm against her breastbone, forcing her to exhale the words again: </p>
<p>
  <i>"Rijl Jauzah al Yusrā." </i>
</p>
<p>Whatever the words meant, the effect was instantaneous. She was about to be sick. Dumping the book onto the rumpled sheets Pate scrambled out of bed and into the bathroom, all but throwing herself onto her knees by the toilet and wrenching the seat up. She was panting hard now, hot saliva flooding her mouth as her stomach twisted painfully. She leaned forward but nothing came up. At least not at first. </p>
<p>She nearly choked with shock and fear when an arm worked its way slowly out of her open mouth, the fingers flexing and the knuckles crackling.</p>
<p>⁂</p>
<p>Those were alarming sounds: indistinct words and the panicked scrambling of someone falling out of bed. The sound of a toilet lid smacking open was sharp too. All that, plus the deep unsettled sensation in his gut made his eyes widen and his mouth sour. A very bad thought wormed into his head.</p>
<p>"Pate? Pate, baby?" he called, resting his head on the door. He wanted to just get in there, but he had to be wrong. There was no way she was reading from that book--!</p>
<p>⁂</p>
<p>Pate could hear her name being called, even through the pounding of her pulse in her ears, and she remembered Beetlejuice in the living room. If not for the indistinct shadowy form, dense as smoke but somehow feeling solid as it crawled up her throat and out her mouth, she would have screamed for him. He might not be able or even willing to do something about whatever was happening, but her terror had surpassed desperation by now. </p>
<p>She tried to stand on wobbling legs even as a second miasmic arm extruded out of her aching jaw and pressed long slender fingers against the closed shower door. Unbalanced and unsteady, Pate staggered against the counter and fell, her eyes widening as the nebulous substance began to solidify into a head.</p>
<p>⁂</p>
<p>"Pate! Pate!" he yelled, forgoing polite knocking to just pound on the door. "What're you doing, baby?! Pate!"</p>
<p>The noise of her crashing into something stilled him for a moment.</p>
<p>⁂</p>
<p>Her throat screamed in protest as the amorphous shape braced one arm against the counter above her head and the other against the floor, gagging and retching at the sensation as it dragged itself fully from out of her mouth. </p>
<p>Hacking coughs wracked her chest, Pate gasping in between for air as tears welled in her eyes and her nose ran, paralyzed with horror and unable to tear her gaze away as the shadowy form stood and began to resolve itself into the form of a tall, slender man dressed in a sleek, tailored three piece suit. His clean-shaven face was ashen, pale as death, his narrowed eyes burning like coals as he looked down the length of his nose at her.</p>
<p> A slow, predatory grin lit his features as he took her in, gasping, blanched, crumpled on the floor at his feet. </p>
<p>"My, my, my," he purred, chuckling in a way that made her skin crawl. "It does feel delicious to be corporeal again! I suppose I ought to thank you, little breather."</p>
<p>
  <i>tbc</i>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The ominous, heavy feeling in his gut grew, the popped like a balloon. That was not good.</p>
<p>Fuck polite. Beetlejuice slammed open the door to find an empty bedroom, old papers strewn across the bed and on the floor. He almost called out again, but there was only one place she could be: the en suite.</p>
<p>He rushed there, three big steps getting him to its door. He pulled up short at the scene in the small space: Her on the floor, looking nauseous and scared, and him standing before her, pompous and predatory as ever. Immediately he bristled.</p>
<p><i>"You!"</i> Beetlejuice spat, a red tint flooding the roots of his hair. "Get the fuck away from her!"</p>
<p>He'd have stepped in between them if there'd been room. As much rage that swept over him, he couldn't help turn some attention to the woman on the floor.</p>
<p>"Pate, baby, <i>what did you do?"</i> he asked.</p>
<p>Pate and the strange man looming over her both turned to face the door as Beetlejuice stormed into the room. There was a definite recognition on his face when he laid eyes on the newcomer, and Pate took the momentary distraction to raise herself into a kneeling position, her arms trembling but supporting her weight. Beej's question tore at her insides. What had she done?</p>
<p>"I . . . I couldn't help it," she rasped, her voice coming out raw and scratchy after expelling the other from her own throat.</p>
<p>She hated how pitiful she sounded, how insufficient an explanation it was but it was the truth. It was as though she had been piloted by remote control, and she turned stricken eyes on the demon standing before her. </p>
<p>He was examining his fingernails with a devilish grin that was nothing like the impish smiles she'd already grown accustomed to from Beetlejuice. He caught her eye and the grin widened dangerously. </p>
<p>"Oh, a clever breather? How novel. Yes, I <i>may</i> have lent a helping hand, but I couldn't have done it without you. That curiosity of yours is bound to get you into trouble, wouldn't you agree, Lawrence?"</p>
<p>Beetlejuice lifted his lip at the use of the hated name, but all that information made everything clearer.</p>
<p>"Back the fuck off, Rigel," he growled, and grabbed Pate by her upper arm, hauling her to her feet, ignoring her cry of surprise, away from the taller demon.</p>
<p>He'd much prefer to get her out of here, but not keeping an eye on the newcomer was a bad idea.</p>
<p>"Pate, did he touch you? Did he take anything from you? Ask for blood or a kiss?" he asked, trying to quell both the anger and fear brewing in him.</p>
<p>Alarmed, not just by the unexpected touch and forceful grip but by the realization that Beetlejuice was a great deal stronger than he looked, Pate gratefully hunkered behind him while he continued to glare heatedly at the other demon--Rigel? Was that his name? Shaking all over now, her fingers grasped the fabric of his jacket as Beej's queries momentarily made her overwrought mind go blank. </p>
<p>Shaking her head hard, willing the numbing white noise to abate so she could think, Pate responded, "No, I don't think so. He . . . he <i>came out of me.</i> Jesus fuck, <i>he crawled out of my mouth!"</i></p>
<p>He locked eyes with the taller, smirking demon.</p>
<p>"Yeah, baby, he does that. It's his own personal fucking kink."</p>
<p>Rigel smirked again, and wiped his own mouth with a thumb, as though he'd been the one to go through the process. Beetlejuice risked a glance away, at Pate.</p>
<p>"I need you to get back to Fuch's book and find that passage again," he muttered, quietly, urgently. "You have to send him away, you have to get him out of here--"</p>
<p>Pate jumped and gasped, her attention focused so intently on Rigel that it startled her when Beetlejuice turned to her with whispered instructions. </p>
<p>Her eyes were on the other as she released her death-grip on the back of Beej's jacket and began slowly inching back toward the bedroom, Rigel regarding her with his head cocked slightly to the side as though he were observing a fascinating animal in a zoo. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Pate spun and made to dash for the book still lying on her bed only to run directly into a shape blocking the doorway.</p>
<p>She had a face full of waistcoat in deep blue brocade, her gaze traveling up the svelte chest to meet burning red eyes and a smile that was a twisted facsimile of courteous. With a choked off scream she backed hastily away until she met Beetlejuice's back once again, looking round to see that he was still squaring up to Rigel standing demurely in her bathroom with his hands clasped loosely at his back. </p>
<p>Facing forward again, Pate couldn't deny that Rigel was also barring the bathroom door. </p>
<p>"How uncivil," Rigel simpered, tutting as if disappointed. "Showing a guest the door when I've only just arrived? Didn't your mother teach you better?"</p>
<p>This? Clones? <i>Really?</i></p>
<p>Internally, Beetlejuice groaned. He'd been so ecstatic to be free, and now he had to deal with <i>this?!</i> If he had any sense at all, he'd leave her to her misery.</p>
<p>But as his mother often reminded him, sense wasn't his strong point. Without taking his eyes off the demon who'd taught him this little trick in the first place, he conjured up two doppelgangers of his own that immediately grabbed Rigel's double from behind.</p>
<p>Pate blinked, wondering if maybe she'd hit her head because there were suddenly two additional Beetlejuices on either side of Rigel's double in the doorway, twisting his arms between them. Or at least, they bore a passing resemblance to Beetlejuice; the striped suits, the green hair, though his had turned an angry, fiery red.</p>
<p>"Get the book!" Beetlejuice growled, spurring her to action. </p>
<p>The Beetlejuice clones hustled the secondary Rigel out of her path and Pate sprinted for the bed, practically launching herself onto the mattress and letting out a relieved breath when she felt her hands close around the text block left open and forgotten in the covers. </p>
<p>Rising onto her knees she tried to pull it to her only to meet resistance. Looking up, Pate found herself face to face with Rigel, his long slender hands grasping the other end of the open block. He winked and blew a kiss at her that produced sulfuric sparks like a firework.</p>
<p>He wasn't the only demonic prick who could move like that. Beetlejuice stepped through the ether to Pate's side, leaving his two clones to deal with Rigel's one while he assisted her.</p>
<p>Rigel might have height on his side, but that wasn't everything.</p>
<p>Shadowy tentacles filled the air, some wrapping themselves around Pate's arms and hands to support her grip, others latching onto the book.</p>
<p>Rigel threw his head back and roared. </p>
<p>"Learn something new about disgraced family members every day!" he crowed. "You've been hiding things from us, Lawrence! Were tentacles what your father used to get passed all those teeth mom has in her dried up, dusty cunt?"</p>
<p>If Rigel thought talking smack about their mother was going to break him, he had another thing coming. Beetlejuice put his full weight into tugging that book away, and to his horror, the only thing that gave way was the old cracked spine.</p>
<p>When it broke, Pate stumbled backwards into him. She was immediately caught and embraced by the shadows, and Rigel hissed in frustration at only half a prize.</p>
<p>"Better be careful, little breather, little <i>bleeder,"</i> the taller demon addressed Pate. "He's not had the chance to fuck a breather for a while, I'd guess, so be careful. Those tentacles could tear you in two if he gets too excited. He'd only last about twenty five seconds, however, so you may be safe enough."</p>
<p>With another smirk and blown kiss to the both of them, Rigel flicked a glance at his twin, and they were both gone.</p>
<p>The tendrils of writhing shadow were a bit of a shock in what had quickly turned into a night full of shocks, and Pate hadn't been able to suppress the cry of alarm when they coiled around her wrists and over her arms, grasping the book. They had substance to them despite their spectral appearance, but they didn't hurt her. In fact, as Beetlejuice stepped up at her side, they seemed to be helping. At least until the text block tore in two, littering the comforter with loose pages and sending her sprawling back against Beej's chest. The squirming tentacles absorbed her, curling around her in a way that might be protective. Though Rigel's spiteful comment about them tearing her apart did make her eye them with a bit more trepidation. </p>
<p>With no fanfare and another mocking smirk, the demon disappeared. Pate's heart was hammering, gradually slowing now that the danger appeared to have passed, and her mind was a whirling tempest of questions and fears and bits and pieces gleaned from Rigel and Beetlejuice's banter. She hazarded a glance over her shoulder and saw him, wreathed in the undulating shadows and also somehow their epicenter. Of all the words and thoughts swirling in her skull, only two managed to make it to her mouth:</p>
<p>
  <i>"Holy fuck . . ."</i>
</p>
<p>"Nothin' holy about him, sugar," Beetlejuice corrected. </p>
<p>With a thought, he sent his clones away, and although it was nice to have her wrapped in so many extra appendages, the tentacles disappeared too. She'd been through a lot already, and an in-depth discussion of them wasn't high on his list. He turned her on her heel to face him.</p>
<p>"You okay, baby?" he asked in concern, keeping her to him with two normal-ish arms. "He didn't hurt you? You didn't get hurt when you fell?"</p>
<p>In fact, her knees were aching and she must've whammed her elbow on something at some point because it was sore as well. But just at the moment, with his arms around her, holding her against him while his hands searched for hurts to soothe, she was much more aware of the return of the squirming eels in her stomach and the warmth creeping into her face.</p>
<p>'Seriously?' she thought, irate at her body's treachery. 'After everything that just happened, this is how you respond?!' </p>
<p>Pate huffed a shaky laugh. </p>
<p>"I think so," she answered finally. "Thank you, for . . . before."</p>
<p>He gave her a cursory search and didn't try to linger on her hip or small of her back or under her arm near her boob too much. Her thanks was nice, as was her heat and the fact she was still more dressed for bed than anything else in that shirt that kept sliding over one shoulder. Plus she hadn't pushed him away . . .</p>
<p>"You're welcome, babydoll," he told her quietly. It was easy and natural to tilt his head and lean forward to brush his lips against hers.</p>
<p>Her mouth opened slightly and a tiny gasp escaped her at the soft press of his lips to her own. He pulled back just a bit, like he was giving her an out if she wanted it. Wide eyes searched his face for a beat, looking for... she didn't even know for sure. Surprising even herself, Pate raised up on the balls of her feet to kiss him more firmly, her hands coming to rest against his chest to steady herself.</p>
<p>Her reaction, her pressing more insistently into a real kiss surprised and delighted him. His hands automatically slipped to her waist and held more tightly, making her shirt rise up. His left hand eased backwards and his fingertips found the silky fabric of her panties, and even more gently, slipped under the elastic of them.</p>
<p>Speaking of rising up, the front of his trousers got a bit more constricted too; he discreetly shifted so his boner didn't advertise itself right against her belly.</p>
<p>Carefully, because of his fangs, he deepened the kiss.</p>
<p>Pate sighed through her nose at the feel of his hands finding her waist and squeezing her against him. There was still the rational corner of her brain wagging at her that this was not the time, but the adrenaline rush was still going and it just felt so damn good. </p>
<p>A thrill jolted down her spine when his chilly, nimble fingers found the waistband of her underwear, dipping ever-so-slightly further south. Her own hands were drifting over his chest, sliding just past the lapels of his jacket and gliding down his suspenders to curl around the tops of his hips. His lips were cold but soft, softer than she would have thought to expect, and she opened her mouth against the gentle probing of his tongue, her fingertips pressing harder into his sides.</p>
<p>He hummed his approval deep in his chest of her hands exploring and the taste of her mouth. His tongue lapped hers, and he smiled through the kiss. She was so warm and so sweet, and he nudged her bodily backwards towards the bed, fully intending on easing her back onto it.</p>
<p>When was the last time she had wanted someone this much? When was the last time someone had wanted her this much? Pate couldn't even remember, feeling Beetlejuice's smiling lips against hers, allowing him to shuffle her backward on her toes until the backs of her knees met the edge of the mattress. </p>
<p>Her hands slid quickly around his middle under his jacket, gripping at the small of his back as though to keep herself from falling. But she didn't fall, Beetlejuice was still holding her and it felt like her heart was going to hammer its way out of her ribcage. Shit, was she really doing this?</p>
<p>As Beetlejuice maneuvered them strategically towards her bed, she felt the bulge in his pants for a moment before he adjusted himself, a flood of heat gushing through her and settling in the pit of her stomach.</p>
<p>There was a bump as the back of her knees met the mattress, and Beetlejuice used that to leverage her down. When she was flat on her back, he stayed between her thighs but pulled away a little to look at her spread before him: her hair mussed, bright spots of color on her cheeks, her lips parted and shiny from the kiss they'd just shared. </p>
<p>Although he couldn't get a good impression of her tits, hidden by the damn shirt, the hem of it had written up enough that he finally saw her satin panties were peach colored, and between her legs the color was darker because of the pubic hair under them.</p>
<p>He licked his lips as he took her in, and two fingers slipped up her bare leg, towards that dark thatch.</p>
<p>"Jesus you're beautiful," he murmured.</p>
<p>Pate ducked her head, smiling at the words but too bashful to look him in the eye as he said them. She hummed her pleasure as his clever fingers trailed up her leg, angling toward the apex of her thighs. Her eyes fluttered shut, reveling in the soft tickle that made her pulse thump in her ears and her chest and her pussy as she nibbled on her swollen lower lip. But it wasn't enough contact, she wanted more, <i>needed</i> more of him. </p>
<p>Raising herself on one elbow she reached down and stopped his hand before it reached its destination, curling her fingers around his and looking up at him through her lashes. </p>
<p>"C'mere," she said. "Please?" </p>
<p>The curious and slightly put out expression that crossed his face when she stopped his ministrations vanished at once, replaced with that broad grin that she wanted so very badly to kiss. </p>
<p>"Sure thing, babydoll," he said, his voice low, rumbling in his chest as he braced himself with an arm on either side of her hips and crawled into bed after her, settling partly beside and partly on top of her.</p>
<p> Humming contently, Pate hooked one leg around his as he leaned in to press his lips to hers again, mouthing at her lower lip until he pulled it gently between his teeth. She moaned against him, threading her fingers through the hair at the back of his head to hold him close. Her brain was a fog of pleasure and lust, but that damned little voice of reason was still warbling away at the back of her mind. </p>
<p><i>'This is not like you!'</i> it insisted. <i>'What the hell are you doing?! Did you forget that there's a demon on the loose? Did you forget what he did to you?'</i></p>
<p>Actually up until that moment she had forgotten, or at least pushed it to the furthest corners of her mind. Rigel had done something to her, that strange headache, watching her limbs move without giving them instructions. Beetlejuice broke off kissing her and buried his face into the curve of her neck and shoulder where her nightshirt had slid down. Lost in thought, she raised a hand to cup his cheek. Rigel had manipulated her into getting what he wanted . . . What if . . . ? </p>
<p>It felt as if a bucket of ice water had dumped into her stomach, chilling her to the bone and making her shiver. Beej must have felt it too because he chuckled, diving back in to continue sucking tiny bruises into her skin. </p>
<p>Grasping his shoulder Pate eased him back until their eyes met. "Beej, this isn't . . . You're not . . . <i>are you?"</i></p>
<p>"Eh?" he said, confused. </p>
<p>It'd all been so hot, pressing her down into the mattress, the heat of her so pleasant, the taste of her skin . . . his cock ached from being trapped behind constricting fabric. He was half ready to strip away all clothing from the two of them and settle more properly between her thighs, when she stuttered out that awkward half sentence. He looked up at her with narrowed eyes. </p>
<p>She was blushing again, not just from arousal this time, just from feeling like such an idiot. There had been nothing so far that might indicate he was puppeting her the way Rigel had; no pain or discomfort, no involuntary actions. Everything she had done since deciding to kiss him properly she had done of her own free will. And now she may have gone and ruined everything. </p>
<p>"Sorry," she said, unable to bear looking at him as she tried to explain. "I'm sorry, I just started thinking about... about <i>him</i> and how he <i>used</i> me and I started to wonder if . . ." </p>
<p>She trailed off, ashamed.</p>
<p>It took him a second for him to catch up, because his dick was still leading the way and truthfully, it was more one-track determination than anything else. When Pate stopped all proceedings and the atmosphere dropped about twenty degrees, however, it didn't take a genius to figure everything out.  Her sudden worry also dumped ice down his back.</p>
<p>"What? You were thinking about that asshole Rigel and how he used you to get free, and now you think I'm using you too?!" he asked. </p>
<p>It hurt worse than he expected, and he couldn't keep that completely out of his voice.</p>
<p>Pate winced at his completely justified outrage, and she didn't miss the pained tinge to his tone either.</p>
<p>Cursing herself she scooted out from under him and sat up to face him instead, desperate to reach out and touch him in some way, to show him that no, she didn't think that in the slightest. She hesitated, her hand stalling halfway between them before she withdrew it, fisting it in her lap. </p>
<p>"No!" she assured him, shaking her head to emphasize her point. "No, Beej, I don't think you'd do that. I just . . . got a little lost in my brain, I guess. I got scared! You're <i>nothing</i> like that guy!"</p>
<p>Her rejection--the articulation that she worried he was puppeteering her to get laid, and now the fact that she'd been perfectly fine touching him just twenty seconds ago and now couldn't? <i>Wouldn't?--</i>instantly flooded him with the worst of his memories, fears, and thoughts. All the shit his mother put him through making sure he knew he was worthless; fucking <i>Rigel</i> and how he was everything everyone wanted; all the times the short asshole version got called instead of him, reinforcing his second-place-is-first-loser place in the world . . . it all came crashing back on him.  How dare he even fathom that a breather--a pretty breather, no less!--would want him? What a joke.</p>
<p>Beetlejuice wilted.</p>
<p>He backed away from Pate. More like threw himself backward, to be honest. He worked hard not to let any tears fall. He didn't want to blow the lie that demons didn't cry. Instead, he took on an icy tone that he hoped would hide his true emotions.</p>
<p>"I'd like to say I'm nothing like my half-brother," he told her sharply, "and some of that's true. I'm not going to possess you just to fuck you. But I am a demon, breather, and don't forget that. Cockteasing a demon doesn't typically end well."</p>
<p>There was a painful clench in her chest, constricting her heart and making it difficult to breathe that had nothing to do with any supernatural force. Pate swallowed the lump in her throat, watching his face crumble, knowing it was her fault. She gasped softly, surprised by his speed when he all but launched himself away from her, as if he couldn't stand to be close to her any more and if he didn't who was she to blame him? God, she wanted so much to go to him, to wrap her arms around him. </p>
<p>His frigid warning sent a tiny spike of fear shuddering through her, but she dismissed it at once. </p>
<p>"I know you wouldn't," she agreed with him. "I was wrong, Beej, and I'm so, so sorry. All of this . . ." </p>
<p>She paused, looking from him to the scattered pages still lying at the foot of her bed. "All of this is <i>my</i> fault but I promise I'm gonna figure out a way to fix it!"</p>
<p>He turned his attention to the papers and the half Fuch's book they had left, since he managed to fuck that up beyond belief too. It was easier to look at the destroyed book than her anyway, because her shirt was still too short, and only another inch or so would give him a fine view of the satin-covered pussy he'd have loved to put his mouth on.</p>
<p>He ignored her apology because lies hurt.</p>
<p>"Fine," he said, after she'd made her statement about the book. His voice cracked a tiny bit, but he powered through it. "That sounds like a task a demon can agree to. Fix the book. Is that what you'll ask of me, summoner?"</p>
<p>Pate frowned, upset that she'd upset him, wracking her brains for some way to make it up to him but coming up short. His question, still frosty and clipped enough to make her sink in on herself, did make her think, though: would repairing the book be enough? She shuffled off the bed and collected the strewn leaves and the cover boards, carrying them to him. </p>
<p>"Would that work? If we fix the book? Would that trap him again?"</p>
<p>The quick and easy way she'd shifted gears, didn't press the larger issue at hand, and her obvious dismissal of him stung.</p>
<p>"Opening Herr Fuch's book didn't release Rigel, and repairing it alone won't send him back," he told her primly. "You'll need the proper incantation to do that."</p>
<p>She wanted a demon who could help her repair a fucking book that should've been burned hundreds of years ago? Okay. He could do that. He could be professional, just like mom always wanted. Maybe when all of this was over he'd have proven something to her at least. He decided he'd also need some privacy once, maybe twice a day, because working closely with Pate was going to be more difficult now that he'd been between her legs.</p>
<p>Pate sighed, flipping idly through the handful of pages. </p>
<p>"I should've figured it wouldn't be that easy," she admitted. "Do you know the incantation? I said . . . <i>something</i> before he showed up. At least I think I did . . ."</p>
<p>She frowned deeply, trying to remember, but a lot of what had transpired while under Rigel's influence was hazy in her mind at best. Mostly she just wanted to take him by the hand and drag him back to the bed, but if his demeanor were any indication, such overtures would not be appreciated or reciprocated at the moment.</p>
<p>Beetlejuice watched her page through the half ruined book and swallowed hard. He'd rather have those fingers on him. She'd made her distrust clear, however.</p>
<p>"No, I don't know it, and even if I did, me saying it wouldn't work. It'll be in there somewhere. Fuchs was meticulous about that sort of thing," he told her quietly. He felt a little hollow inside.</p>
<p>His voice sounded so dead, so despondent, so at odds with the boisterous and flirtatious manner she'd been so taken by. A terrible ache was crushing her heart, clawing its way up her throat, burning in her eyes, made all the worse by the knowledge that she had only herself to blame. </p>
<p>Pate fell silent and looked up at him, his eyes looking anywhere but at her. To hell with her own uncertainty or guilt or whatever else, before another thing happened she was going to show him that she did care about him. If he wanted to push her away, then so be it but she had to at least try. </p>
<p>Without another word she slung the book onto the bed and stepped into him, sliding her arms beneath his jacket to grasp at his shoulder blades, burying her face against his chest. </p>
<p>"I'm sorry," she mumbled against him, the words muffled and throaty as she swallowed around another hard lump in her throat. "I hurt you and I'm sorry. You don't have to forgive me, but please believe me."</p>
<p>Instantly he tensed. This was a trick, he'd been fooled before, he'd been fucking stupid before--!</p>
<p>But she smelled so nice and her embrace was strong and she'd just put her entire face into his chest. He should be strong, he should channel his inner cold demon that he'd been told so often was proper unless he was manipulating someone . . . but instead his arms came up awkwardly around her until he could relax enough to make it more natural. He couldn't quite make a flirty or dirty joke out of it. He just liked her standing so close.</p>
<p>When she felt his arms come around her Pate let out a sound, somewhere between a sob and a gasp. Just like that, whatever dam had been holding everything back since Beetlejuice had first appeared out of the ether finally gave way and a veritable flood of emotion burst from her. Fear and excitement and desire and horror, all jumbled together in a confusing and overwhelming tide that threatened to swallow her whole. </p>
<p>Her shoulders shook with the effort of keeping it in, clinging to Beetlejuice like he was the only thing keeping her from being swept away. </p>
<p>"I'm so so sorry," she croaked again, but it didn't matter how many times she said it, it might never be enough.</p>
<p>She kept repeating she was sorry and she was trembling and she was squeezing him so tightly he'd have trouble drawing a breath if he needed to breathe. He knew that sort of pain.</p>
<p>So despite the quick, unexpected turn of events, thinking he was going to get lucky, then being rejected, then this, whatever <i>this</i> was --and jesus, had it only been twenty-ish minutes since Rigel had left?!--Beetlejuice held her and even dared to press a kiss into her hair.</p>
<p>He did not make any further physical advances and he willed his cock to stay the fuck down, boy. If Pate was worried she'd be possessed, then anything further that happened between them would have to be initiated by her, he vowed to himself.</p>
<p>She finally managed to even out her breathing, a little embarrassed to note that she'd left tear stains on the front of his shirt. But then again there were so many assorted stains and discolorations maybe he wouldn't notice. </p>
<p>She smiled and sighed when his lips pressed softly into her hair and it almost felt like maybe things had returned to . . . well, definitely not <i>normal,</i> but it was nice, just holding each other like this. </p>
<p>"Shit," she breathed, turning her head to one side. "I don't know that I've ever fucked up so badly so many times in less than 24 hours. Might've set some kind of record."</p>
<p>He winced a little, because he was one of those fuck ups, but since she wasn't looking directly at him, she probably hadn't noticed it.</p>
<p>"Oh, you'd be surprised," he assured her, thinking over some of his own misadventures. That was neither here nor there, at the moment. And as nice as it was to have her just standing against him, he pulled back a little to look down at her. "You look exhausted. Why don't you try to get some more sleep?"</p>
<p>Pate whined internally as he gently dislodged her, tipping her head back to look him in the eye. </p>
<p>"Yeah, I am," she admitted with a weak laugh. </p>
<p>She debated for a moment, sheepishly asking if he'd like to join her, wanting him close while she drifted off. But she was also terrified by the idea of making things worse again after just barely managing to salvage them by the skin of her teeth. Pate sighed again and took a step back, smoothing out the wrinkles she'd made in his shirt front, needlessly straightening his tie. </p>
<p>"What about you? I can make up the couch for you or . . . ?"</p>
<p>The bit of clothing adjustment she did gave him a ridiculous feeling of warmth. Was he really that needy and touch-starved? Yes, of fucking course he was! It was on the tip of his tongue that he didn't need sleep, per se, but the idea of having someone do something like that for him, of just making sure he'd be comfortable, made him nod and grin like a fool.</p>
<p>Pate gave him a nod and a smile and rounded the foot of the bed to her closet to retrieve an extra blanket or two, grabbing a pillow off her bed. She draped a sheet over the seat of the sectional, tucking it into the cushions so it wouldn't slide out from under him. Fluffing the pillow between her hands, she laid it at one end and the quilt at the other. </p>
<p>"Anything else you need?" she asked, clasping her hands together in front of her to keep her fingers from fidgeting.</p>
<p>Even more on the tip of his tongue was "I need you, baby," but he beat that down with a stick. Instead, he gave her an awkward half-shrug, half-shake of his head.</p>
<p>Satisfied, sort of at least, Pate started back towards her bedroom intending to leave him to it. She stopped short when she drew level with him, practically able to feel his eyes tracking her, and looked up at him. The fluttering/squirming sensation resurged in her stomach but she didn't want to risk another mistake. </p>
<p>She wanted to do something, quickly before she talked herself out of it, reaching out a hand to the center of his chest to balance herself as she raised once more on tiptoe to press a soft, chaste kiss to his face, landing between his cheek and the corner of his mouth. </p>
<p>"Good night," she murmured, all but scurrying away before the blush on her face became too evident.</p>
<p>He couldn't prevent a quiet moan from escaping him at the warmth of her hand on his chest and the peck of a kiss. Gods he was pathetically needy. He tracked her as she hurried away, separating them by a room and a door. When she was gone, he sat on the couch she'd done up for him, wrapped the quilt around himself, and tried not to think about things too much.</p>
<p>Pate lay awake for a long time, staring at the ceiling while her mind worked feverishly to process all that had transpired. On top of having all this new information to turn over in her head, the heat that had risen to her face and sunk to her crotch had not yet dissipated. Her thighs squeezed together under the sheets but it wasn't quite enough. Had it really only been a short while ago that Beetlejuice had been in this bed with her? And just look at how marvelously she'd shot herself in the foot on <i>that.</i> </p>
<p>Even more pressing, though perhaps she had tried to avoid even thinking about it because it felt so beyond her, was Rigel. He had escaped with part of Fuchs's book because of her. </p>
<p>After a length of time that seemed very brief and interminable at the same time, Pate gave up on sleep. Her mind was too busy, too loud. She shucked her nightshirt for a thin cotton hoodie and a pair of pajama pants, retrieving her laptop and the remnants of the book. Not wanting to disturb Beetlejuice in the living room, she kept her light off and worked off the glow of the laptop screen.</p>
<p>⁂</p>
<p>The quilt didn't warm him; breathers never remembered that a blanket only trapped their own body heat and he had very little. But he kept it tucked around himself because it smelled like her. Beetlejuice drifted, not sleeping, but only partially aware as well. He was brought back around, a little, by soft noises from Pate's bedroom. Feet shuffling on the floor. The faintest squeal of a drawer being opened.</p>
<p>Curious but not wanting to disturb her, he got up, padded to outside her door, and sat beside it, pressing the side of his head to it, still cocooned in the quilt.</p>
<p>
  <i>tbc</i>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dawn found Pate sitting on her bed, the open half of Fuchs's book in her lap, her laptop in front of her, with a spiral notebook covered in cramped, hurried notations, some of which had been scratched out. Excitement was beginning to bubble in her chest, she thought she just might have uncovered a solution to the Rigel problem. </p><p>Early as it was, she couldn't wait another minute before filling Beej in on what she'd found, to see if he thought it might be possible. It might be grasping at straws, but it was better than nothing. Gathering everything into a pile she could transport one-handed, Pate clumsily wriggled her way off the bed and crossed to the door, gripping the knob and throwing it open with an enthusiastic cry of, </p><p>"Beej! I think I've figured it out!"</p><p>⁂</p><p>The door was thrown open, away from him, and with no support, he fell into the room. To his disappointment, she'd changed her clothing; he'd have gotten another pretty view of her panties if she'd kept that sleep shirt on! As it was, sprawled on the floor at Pate's feet, he tried to play it off cool.</p><p>"Hey, uh. Hello again!" he said as he pushed himself up. "You figured what out?"</p><p>He tried to stand, but his legs were tangled in the quilt and he struggled mightily to not fall over again.</p><p>He failed, and hit the wall.</p><p>Pate gasped when she opened her door and spilled demon all over the floor, blinking dumbly down at him. Had he fallen asleep outside her door? Warmth blossomed in her chest at the thought, but as he visibly labored to stand only to fall again she hurriedly stepped around him to deposit her burden on the end of the couch, rushing back to kneel next to him and help untangle the quilt from around his legs. </p><p>"Are you okay?" she asked worriedly.</p><p>"I'm good, baby," he replied, and didn't help at all to get her quilt off him; it was nice to feel just the thought of her hands on his legs.</p><p>Once he was released, he popped up and gave her hand up as well, pulling her to her feet; the motion made her end up against his chest. For a second, he froze, then as smoothly as he could, he stepped away.</p><p>"What did you figure out?" he asked again, gesturing towards all the paperwork she'd left on her couch.</p><p>Hearing the term of endearment again, his hand extended down to help her up, the feeling of her warm fingers encased in his cold ones.... Her pulse fluttered, and then to find herself standing against him, it was almost enough to make her forget what she'd been so eager to tell him. </p><p>Mentally shaking herself, Pate beamed at him. </p><p>"I think I know how to banish Rigel!" she announced, dropping herself onto the couch and spreading her research around so he could see it. "I couldn't sleep, so I started looking through the book, trying to find that incantation. I didn't see it, so I figure Rigel must've gotten that page." </p><p>She giggled when he rolled his eyes in an <i>"of course . . ."</i> sort of way. </p><p>"But! I did find this." She turned the book around to show him the page in question. <i>"Ora infernum!</i> Hellmouths. I used to see depictions of them in medieval illuminations all the time, but I never thought they'd be real! If Google translate is worth anything at all, it looks like they're actual living creatures who act as portals to hell. Fuchs writes that if you're able to kill the hellmouth, that portal closes. So could we do that? Push his pompous ass through a hellmouth and then kill it so he can't come back?"</p><p>And he'd thought Sandworms were bad. Those  . . . "hellmouths" looked fucking terrifying.</p><p>He took the destroyed book from her and looked at the illustration more closely. "So, are they like a sarlacc, or something? Are they a vacuum? Am I going to get sucked in?"</p><p>He knew he was peppering her with questions, but one was most important of all.</p><p>"How the fuck would we kill that thing?"</p><p>Pate rifled through her notes, sweeping a loose strand of hair out of her mouth. </p><p>"Hmm . . . Fuchs isn't totally clear on that. It looks like the only one he ever saw was already dead. All the depictions I ever saw of them in manuscripts, it didn't look like anything was being pulled in, more like the mouth is just a tunnel. A really gross tunnel down a monster's throat where you end up in hell, but just a passageway. As for how to kill it, I'm sure we can come up with something. Those tentacles of yours, couldn't they do some serious damage?"</p><p>Beetlejuice had no desire to get any body parts near that ugly thing. He looked dubiously over the illustration again.</p><p>"What prevents anyone in the mouth from just walking back out again?"</p><p>She crossed her arms, humming thoughtfully to herself. </p><p>"Also unclear... I'd guess that once whoever is in the mouth, you've got to kill the creature to seal the exit." </p><p>She leaned back against the sofa, frowning at the carpet as she pondered. How to kill such a giant monster? All she really had to go on was Hollywood and folklore. Wooden stake? That was vampires... And from what she could tell, the hellmouth was just a head. No heart to stake. Silver bullet? Possible, but it would have to be a massive bullet to kill something so big. Pate sat upright with a tiny gasp. </p><p>"Holy water," she said.</p><p>"Holy water? Like the stuff priests bathe in or whatever?" he asked. He only had a vague idea of the stuff; water was water and it wasn't his best friend. "I suppose . . . but we've got to find one of those things, and get Rigel to it. That's a lot of work, baby."</p><p>Pate shrugged, offering a tight smile. "I know. It's a long shot, but it's all we've got. Rigel's your..." she grimaced apologetically. "Brother, right? You know him better than I do, where would he go?"</p><p>He grimaced.</p><p>"Half brother," he reluctantly admitted. "My bitch of a mother's favorite out of all of us. He was always the best about dragging souls to the Netherworld."</p><p>He thought about her question for a moment, chewing his thumb nail.</p><p>"He's one of two places," he finally said. "The Vatican, because if he can get priests, that's like hitting the lottery. Or Las Vegas, because sometimes quantity over quality isn't a bad thing. If he's feeling like it, he'd definitely get more pussy in Vegas, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't get down and dirty with religious officials . . . so . . . flip a coin?"</p><p>Pate picked up on the bitter edge to his voice when he talked about his family, though she'd gotten the gist from his interaction with Rigel and the barbs tossed back and forth. She scooted closer to him on the couch while he thought, spotting some loose change she'd left on a small wooden tray table by the sofa. Plucking a quarter from the bunch she plopped back down next to him, their legs pressed flush as she held it up to show him. </p><p>"Heads Italy, tails Vegas?" she asked. </p><p>He hesitated for a beat, then gave a firm nod and Pate took a breath and flicked the coin in the air with her thumb, watching it spin.</p><p>"Vegas is always good for tail, baby," he joked, and didn't care that made her blush. The coin arced into the air, then landed on the carpet with a soft sound. He laughed at the result. "Looks like we're headed to Sin City!"</p><p>Pate rolled her eyes, grinning all the while so he wouldn't take it the wrong way. "I've never been to Nevada," she quipped. "It's hot out there, right? I'd better pack my shorts."</p><p> ⁂</p><p>Pate leaned back in the driver's seat, left hand on the steering wheel, right hand drumming her thigh in time with the music playing low over the radio. She and Beetlejuice were nearing the halfway point of the nearly 2300 mile drive to Las Vegas. The GPS mounted on her dashboard said it was a 33 hour expedition one way.</p><p>Of course it would have been infinitely faster to fly, but Pate didn't think she could bear the stress of trying to get Beetlejuice through airport security. If she were honest with herself, spending the better part of two days in a vehicle with him was too tempting to resist.<br/>
Sitting still for that long, however, wasn't something the specter was accustomed or suited to. So Beetlejuice was currently reclining in the passenger seat with her tablet, playing the games she'd showed him. She glanced over at him every so often, intent upon whatever he was doing, the tip of his tongue held between his teeth as he concentrated. She smiled, her heart swelling and thumping a little harder at the sight.</p><p>This vehicle. He hated it. <i>Hated. It.</i> It was too small, the seat only went down to a weird, not-quite-flat position with a weird angle, the backseat was okay if he didn't mind curling up but Pate wouldn't let him ride with his feet out the windows. The tablet she'd brought along was okay; it at least passed the time and kept him distracted. <i>She</i> distracted him too, but she'd told him she got creeped out when he just sat still like a corpse and stared at her. </p><p>Sometimes he crawled into the back seat just so he didn't have to work as hard to hide the broomstick that occasionally showed up in his pants. The overnight accommodations? In the crappy motels? Those were a trial too, because she couldn't afford two rooms. He always pretended to sleep, but spent the nights listening to her breathe.</p><p>At long last the towering hotels and casinos of Sin City lay sprawled before them, the many hundreds of thousands of windows flashing in the bright desert sun. </p><p>As they left the highway traffic grew a bit more congested, but she was content to putter along at a snail’s pace, looking around as much as possible while still keeping an eye on the road. Pate turned a wide grin at Beej, who had clambered back into the passenger seat and slipped out from under the shoulder strap of his seatbelt. She insisted he wear it, she said it was so the cops didn’t pull them over and so the seat belt alarm wouldn’t go off the whole drive, but mostly she wanted him to be safe if something happened. She never told him that last part.  </p><p>He was leaning forward, his arms folded across the dashboard, grinning back at her. They cruised down Las Vegas Blvd, past the famed hotels and casinos. </p><p>“I booked us a room on the strip,” she told him, looking out for the unmistakable pink neon lotus outside the hotel. “Figured as long as we were going to Vegas we might as well do it right!”</p><p> He looked from one window to the next to the next to the next, sometimes catching Pate's eyes as he grinned. This place looked bright, it looked chaotic, it looked like a good place for a great time. It looked like the perfect playground for all sorts of hedonism. </p><p>"On the Strip? Which hotel? Look! Cher is still here! Can we see Cher? Huh? Or one of those shows at night when the women are naked? Huh? Pate! Let's see one of those!" Did he sound like a kid on sugar? Maybe, but he didn't care.</p><p>His hyperactive enthusiasm made her laugh as he rattled off requests, and she decided then and there that sometime in the not-too-distant future they were going to go on a real vacation. But for the time being . . .</p><p>"Slow down there, Bug," she giggled. "We've got a mission, remember? Find a hellmouth, get our hands on some holy water, and then boot your shitstain of a brother back to hell." </p><p>Beej pouted, sliding down in the seat and making her giggle more. </p><p>"But, if all goes well, I don't see any reason why we couldn't take in a show." </p><p>His exuberance returned at once, full force, and Pate laughed. His unbridled excitement must be catching, because she could feel it fizzing in her chest like bubbly champagne. </p><p>"As to our accommodations..." she said, pulling into the drive, the enormous Flaming Lotus in bright pinks and orange blooming from the corner of the entrance of the building on their left. "It's not the Bellagio, but it beats the hell outta Motel 6."</p><p>He couldn't help but grin widely at the nickname she'd taken to calling him during this, and this hotel?! It was just as loud and hard on the eyes as he could be, and he loved it. Pate kept an incredibly tight hold on him as she marched him through the lobby. As much as he wanted to lay down on the marble floors or explore the space, her hand clasped around his or her arm under his jacket around his waist to keep him contained was much much better. He knew what a marble slab felt like, anyway.</p><p>In the elevator, a couple with a kid gave them--him-- a look, and his dead eyed return stare hurried them off the lift without making more eye contact.</p><p>When they were gone and the two of them were alone the rest of the ride up, Beetlejuice didn't draw attention to the fact that Pate hadn't released his hand.</p><p>At the room, he was disappointed to find two beds; it was just another indication of her distrust of him. That still stung, but she had been right. They had a job to do.</p><p>
  <i>tbc</i>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Thanking (and tipping) the polite steward who brought her luggage up from the lobby, Pate wheeled the duffel bag-style suitcase into the room, finding Beetlejuice already lying on one of the beds with his hands tucked behind his head and his ankles crossed. Smiling at him she hefted her bag onto the other bed, zipping the flap open and pulling out her laptop before seating herself on the mattress with it.</p>
<p>She thought back a little mournfully of the cheap hotels they’d stayed the night in on the drive, sharing a bed, lying so still while her heart fluttered madly in her chest, wishing so badly that he’d roll her over and kiss her or she could pluck up the courage to do it herself after their disastrous first attempt.</p>
<p>She’d thought the two beds would make things easier, for both of them, but even just the few feet separating them felt like a chasm. Pate swallowed, an ache in her chest, then let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand. </p>
<p>Her fingers flew across the keys, searching for nearby centers of worship. </p>
<p>“Huh. There’s a Catholic church at the other end of the Strip,” she said, somewhat surprised. “That was easier than I thought it’d be. They’re bound to have holy water, a fount or something for the parishioners.” </p>
<p>She looked over at Beej, who shrugged and shot her a thumbs up with a <i>“no sweat”</i> sort of air. Humming thoughtfully to herself, Pate closed her computer, swung herself off the bed and pulled her toiletry bag and a change of clothes from her suitcase. </p>
<p>“I’m gonna shower real quick and knock off the road grime, then we can head right over there!” she said. “Sit tight. Won’t be long.” With that she padded into the bathroom and shut the door.</p>
<p>He had half a mind to wander into the bathroom after her, but thought her screaming profanities at him would get them kicked out of here, even in Vegas. Instead, he opened her tablet, found it dead, and informed her of this upsetting state of affairs through the door. When she yelled back the charger was in her bag, Beetlejuice figured that was enough permission to go through it.</p>
<p>He found the cord in a side pocket, then ignored it to dig into the main section of the suitcase. It wasn't anything he hadn't already done--he didn't need to sleep, and needed something to do while she was, even if it was creepy--and found again the article of clothing that was his favorite: a wine colored negligee and matching panties. He loved the soft satin of it between his fingers, and the slight scratchiness of the lace.</p>
<p>Pate was occupied. Could be for a while. With all that in mind, and a burning desire that overrode some rational thought, Beetlejuice shucked his suit and underthings, and squeezed himself into the lingerie. It was only slightly tight on his shoulders and was of course too short, plus his cock, even flaccid, strained the slip of satin of the panties, but he <i>liked</i> it.</p>
<p>Pate stood in the bathroom, having shed her clothes and arranged her things in the shower, waiting for the water to heat up. She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling oddly self-conscious despite the fact that she was alone in the room with a closed door between her and Beetlejuice. Some tiny hopeful flicker imagined what it might be like if he simply barged in, took her face in his hands and kissed her. Then maybe he’d back her against the wall and pin her there with his body while his hands roamed. Her eyes slid closed of their own volition, her hands wandering idly, imagining it was him touching her. </p>
<p>The room was filling with steam, heat wafting across her skin. Whether from that or the gentle pressure of her fingers, her nipples stiffened. As her fingertips skated softly down her belly Pate caught herself with a gasp, shaking her head as if shooing a troublesome fly buzzing at her ear. She had to focus. Keep perspective.</p>
<p>Just as she was about to step into the shower she noticed that she’d left her loofa in a sandwich bag in her suitcase. She briefly considered calling through the door to ask Beej if he’d bring it to her (then maybe grabbing his hand and pulling him in with her) but, frustrated both with the situation and with herself, she pulled her pants and shirt back on, not bothering with underclothes, and went to get it, leaving the shower running. </p>
<p>Pate opened the bathroom door but barely made it two steps before she pulled up short with a silent gasp. Many different trains of thought went careening through her brain all at the same time: <i>’Oh fuck oh shit oh fuck oh shit he found it’,</i> followed by a tiny spike of annoyance that he’d gone through her things, overridden almost immediately by a flash of scorching warmth that started in her groin and spread rapidly through her whole body.</p>
<p>When she’d been packing her bags she’d found the babydoll negligee set in her underwear drawer and had tossed it into the suitcase on a wild whim. She’d managed to screw things up so completely the first time they’d been intimate, and while she hoped for another chance she hadn’t really expected to use it on this trip. Hadn’t she, though? Simply by bringing it? </p>
<p>Regardless, the sight of Beetlejuice in her lingerie, which on him was more of a tank top and underwear that left verrrry little to the imagination, was both amusing and invasive at the same time and it filled her to the brim with a desire to shove him back on the bed and fuck him breathless right here and now. Which made her wonder, he didn’t breathe, did he? Semantics. What happened instead was that she squeaked out, </p>
<p>
  <i>“Beej?”</i>
</p>
<p>Caught, he was frozen. Caught, he was torn between a quick-as-a-blink clothing change -- well, it'd just be dragging his ratty suit back on, <i>over</i> the satin and lace -- and just letting this happen.</p>
<p>Just letting this happen won, because that was less work. It didn't make it less surprising, however.</p>
<p>"Fuck, Pate!" he squeaked. "You should <i>knock</i> on doors before you go through them!"</p>
<p>His utter indignation, the accusatory tone that lost most of its effectiveness because his voice was about an octave higher, it was simply too much.</p>
<p>Pate burst into uncontrollable laughter, her arms curling around her middle and tears springing to her eyes. </p>
<p>“I’m not--I’m not laughing <i>at you,</i> I swear!” she wheezed, bracing herself against the wall between her bed and the en suite. </p>
<p>Panting, gasping and still giggling, Pate wiped her streaming eyes and grinned at him. </p>
<p>“I think you might wear it better than me!” she joked. Giggling harder she held out a hand, pointer finger up, and made a corkscrew motion. “Gimme a little spin?”</p>
<p>She caught him in her clothing, her soft and sexy clothing, and she was laughing. <i>Laughing!</i> That was nowhere near the response he'd have ever expected; he'd been on the receiving end of surprises like that in the past -- satin panties just felt so <i>good</i> on his cock!</p>
<p>Beetlejuice dropped the faux indignation and grinned. </p>
<p>"Oh," he replied, "you like this?"</p>
<p>As she requested, he turned. The hem flared a little as he did, and when he faced her again, he dropped one hand down the front of the top, down his chest, opening the front slightly as it went. He didn't let it get all the way to his crotch, although his cock had taken some notice and was slightly harder now, just like his nipples.</p>
<p>"Like what you see?"</p>
<p>He may have been joking, with his ever-playful and flirtatious demeanor it could be difficult to tell. But in fact, she <i>did</i> like what she saw. As long as they were flipping the script anyway, Pate favored him with a wolf-whistle. </p>
<p>The satin clung to his hips and love handles and the slope of his soft, round stomach. It flared gently when he twirled for her, giving her a nice glimpse of his ass. And when he tugged on the low cut neck she got her second surprise of the night: a glint of silver against his pale skin and verdant chest hair. His nipples were pierced. </p>
<p>Humming appreciatively, Pate grinned widely at him, nipping on her bottom lip. </p>
<p>“It’s certainly a good color on you,” she quipped, but it was also true. The dark magenta hue suited him. </p>
<p>Chuckling more softly now, she padded over to him. </p>
<p>“I, um . . . I wanted to surprise you.” she admitted a bit bashfully.</p>
<p>The whistle made him grin and almost, <i>almost,</i> finally run a hand over his cock, now barely held in place by the thin satin of her panties.</p>
<p>"I guess I beat you to that, baby?" he asked. "I didn't mean to steal your thunder. Or your lingerie! But here we are, so . . ."</p>
<p>He opened his arms as she walked into his personal space.</p>
<p>Her smile faltered just a bit, and Pate stopped herself just shy of stepping into Beej's inviting arms. Her stomach still hurt a little from the laughter of only a few moments ago, but a heaviness was making its presence known in her chest even as she turned the small, flimsy smile up at him. </p>
<p>"I wanted to make it up to you," she said. "The . . . the other night. What I said, how it . . . how I hurt you." </p>
<p>Her fidgeting hands raised to her hair, pulling the fine strands over her shoulder, twisting it between them, fussing busily with it just for something to do.</p>
<p>"I haven't had a lot of luck getting close to people," she confided, clenching her teeth and swallowing hard, feeling her lip tremble even as she tried to keep a casual smile on her face. "They get tired of me, I guess, and they leave." </p>
<p>She shrugged, as though it didn't really matter, a bitter metallic taste in her mouth. "After awhile I just stopped trying. I got tired of being left behind, thought maybe I was just on my own, y'know?" </p>
<p>Dammit all, her eyes felt hot and heavy, burning with tears that she did not want him to see. She looked at the floor, at the visible patch of his emerald chest hair, anywhere but at his face. But now that she had started the heaviness in her chest wouldn't let her stop. He needed to know that the problem wasn't him, it was her.</p>
<p>She took a deep breath around the heavy weight, forced herself to look up and meet his eyes.</p>
<p> "Now that I actually want to get close to someone again, it's like I forgot how. So I try to think my way through it and, well . . ." Pate let out a self-deprecating laugh. " . . . you were there for that clusterfuck."</p>
<p>There’d been laughter and she stepped up to his arms and then she stopped? Beetlejuice listened to her reasons and his arms fell back to his sides for a second, until she got to “ . . . they get tired of me, and then they leave.”</p>
<p>That made him laugh. The story of his life!</p>
<p>His laughter startled her, he could tell. Maybe he’d tell her about the shit pile of his life later. He wasn’t sure. But how could someone who’d willingly spent several days in a car with him, who’d come to her own conclusion that asshole Rigel needed sent back, who’d stowed this absolutely delicious lingerie in her suitcase possibly think that he was going to leave her?</p>
<p>With a thought, her lingerie was replaced by his suit, and he took the initiative to step to her. With one hand on her waist and the other slipped over her shoulder to the side of her neck to keep her from ducking her head away, he replied,</p>
<p>“Baby, this time you had a real reason to be concerned. You called up two demons: one suave, devilish handsome one, and that prick Rigel. It’s understandable to be cautious. But I already told you I’m not like that--and yes, I get the irony of trusting a demon not to lie! But--” </p>
<p>Words weren’t going to convince her. He could tell. Actions would be better, so he leaned in and kissed her on the mouth.</p>
<p>Although his hands tightened involuntarily, he didn’t push it. And he managed to remember that people needed to breathe, so he broke away before she required air again.</p>
<p>“Okay, Pate?” he asked quietly. “Now. Finish your shower, or let’s just go get this thing done. Then we can concentrate on more important things, like much less clothing and finding out if demons and humans fit together.</p>
<p>“Spoiler alert: they do.”</p>
<p>He released her then and bent over to pick up the top of the babydoll negligee she’d found him in to return to her suitcase. Later she’d find out he’d kept the matching panties on.</p>
<p>Pate's heart pounded against her ribs when Beetlejuice took it upon himself to close the distance between them, her hand reaching up to loosely grip his wrist when his own hand pressed to the side of her neck. At his soft words of reassurance, the weight in her chest evaporated and she felt lighter than she had in a very long time. She sighed through her nose when he dipped his head to catch her mouth in a quick kiss, blushing but smiling at him in response.</p>
<p> "I was hoping you weren't gonna wear that to the church," she jabbed. "I don't have enough cash on hand to bail you out if you get arrested." </p>
<p>She stuck her tongue out at him, but retrieved her loofa and returned to the bathroom for a quick shower. Twenty minutes later she emerged, ready to go. She flashed Beetlejuice a fierce smile. </p>
<p>"Let's go to church." </p>
<p>
  <i>tbc</i>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He only had rudimentary knowledge of Catholicism -- that was a total lie, he knew enough to stay the hell away from <i>that</i> group -- but Pate insisted on the holy water, saying it would be helpful, so he went along. At least in Vegas, even a church, no one batted an eye at his appearance. That was both disconcerting and dull.</p>
<p>Beetlejuice hung back as Pate spoke to the priest about obtaining holy water. He flipped through a Bible he found on one of the pews. It was the same drivel he vaguely remembered from the fifteenth century.</p>
<p>Suddenly, Pate was back at his side, grabbing his elbow tightly and frog marching him back out of the building. She was hissing something under her breath about "stupid priests" and "don't understand the <i>gravity"</i> as they made their way back onto the busy sidewalk of the Strip.</p>
<p>"Pate, baby, what the hell?"</p>
<p>She told him the priest didn't <i>believe</i> her, that he thought they were <i>crazy,</i> and he wouldn't even <i>sell</i> them the holy water. There were also a few choice words about the whole situation, and a literal spitting rant about how the priest had wanted to call the cops.</p>
<p>Beetlejuice cocked his head and told her very blandly, "Yes, you're right. No one would ever think we were totally in the right about this, and only sane people traipse into a church spouting information about hellmouths and the need for gallons of holy water to destroy them. That guy was obviously delusional."</p>
<p>He waited till she calmed down enough to realize he was pulling her chain, then took her hand.</p>
<p>"Fuck that priest," he announced loudly. Only a few people passing by looked over at that. "You want that holy water? We'll just come back tonight and take it. Done and done."</p>
<p>Before she could muster the indignation to get angry with him, a grin broke out on Beetlejuice’s face that he quickly wiped away but it was enough to make her realize he was teasing her. Pate leveled a deadpan scowl at him and flashed him the bird, but it only made him snicker like a middle schooler before he composed himself and assured her that they’d come back that night. Though she did have her misgivings about breaking into let alone stealing from a church, she also didn’t have any better ideas about where or how to get holy water or how they’d kill the hellmouth without it. So she agreed.</p>
<p>There was a 24-hr diner a couple blocks over where they went to wile away the last few hours before the church closed. By nightfall, Pate had probably consumed two carafes’ worth of coffee by herself, not that the tired-looking waitress seemed to care about the half dozen used mugs on the table around her. She was much more perturbed by Beetlejuice reaching over the partition into the cooking area and grabbing a container of syrup, which he proceeded to drink straight from the spout. Pate hurriedly paid for them and hustled him out, muttering apologies. </p>
<p>Even after dark the streets of Las Vegas were far from empty, they might be even more vibrant and busy than they’d been during the day. But down the street where the church was located, things appeared quiet as the two of them approached the building, dark but for the light that shone through a beautiful stained-glass window at the front. </p>
<p>“A place like this has gotta have a security system,” Pate mused aloud. “Any ideas on how we get in?”</p>
<p>With a confident smirk, Beetlejuice loudly cracked his knuckles. </p>
<p><i>“Please,</i> babe, give me a challenge at least!” </p>
<p>He cast a quick look around, as if searching for something, his gaze settling on a utility pole. Glancing back over his shoulder to waggle his eyebrows at her, he made a quick swiping motion with his hand, growling low in his throat as he did. Immediately there was a loud electrical snap and a shower of sparks fell from the transformer atop the pole. The stained-glass window went dark as the light inside abruptly switched off. As did the lights in a few adjacent buildings, the entire corner now swathed in shadows. </p>
<p>He turned back to face her, adjusting the cuffs of his suit jacket and gesturing with both hands like a stage magician who’d just performed a particularly mystifying illusion. Pate hummed in approval, clapping her hands with only a little irony. </p>
<p>“Impressive. What else can you do?”</p>
<p>"Oh, I can make lots of sparks fly, baby," he replied off-handedly, "but here on the street that'll get us arrested even in Sin City. Come on, I'll boost you up. You get in there, grab the water, and we're golden. You brought something to carry it in, right?"</p>
<p>Pate shrugged, dislodging the shoulder strap of a hydration pack she’d brought from home. </p>
<p>“From my hiking phase,” she informed him with a grin. “Can your demon magic jimmy the lock on the window?” </p>
<p>Beetlejuice simply snapped his fingers and even from where they stood Pate heard the tell tale click of the lock springing open. He moved past her, backing against the wall and lacing his fingers together for her to step in. Pate tried to be gentle, grasping his shoulders to keep steady as he hoisted her to the window. It gave easily, sliding open and permitting her to wriggle in. </p>
<p>It looked like a classroom, so she found her way to the sanctuary where she’d glimpsed a ceremonial basin on their earlier trip. Naturally it was empty, they must fill it only when needed. Which meant it had to come from somewhere. Pate headed for the pastor’s office, rummaging in desk drawers and the closet and filing cabinet until she unearthed a clear plastic bottle with a label that read <i>“Consecrated Holy Water from the river Jordan.”</i> </p>
<p>Perfect! </p>
<p>She went ahead and took the whole bottle, pushing a chair against the wall to boost her back to the sill. </p>
<p>“Score!” she called quietly to Beetlejuice, dropping the bottle into his waiting hands.</p>
<p>He caught the dropped bottle, set it down, and stretched upward to help Pate down from the window. He let his hands squeeze and linger on her backside for an extra moment; if accused of being inappropriate he'd just use the excuse he wanted to make sure she didn't stumble as she came back down to the sidewalk. He nodded at the bottle he'd set down.</p>
<p>"Good. Now can we get back to the hotel? Big day tomorrow. You're gonna need your rest, I want you on your back--" he said, but was cut off by gasp from her.</p>
<p>She flashed him a knowing grin when she felt his fingers gripping her ass, bracing her outstretched arms against his shoulders again as she dropped back down to the ground, his hands resting on her hips, hers still laid atop his shoulders. Pate rolled her eyes at his lurid talk, smiling even as she shook her head when something beyond him caught her eye. </p>
<p>Darkness still enveloped the corner around the church, maybe the whole block, but she could see movement. After a moment her eyes picked out a four legged shape, slinking cautiously across the road towards them as if wary of their presence. It looked like a dog at first glance, but as it drew closer she realized it was massive, three feet tall at least, with a large squarish head, low slung neck and humped shoulders like a hyena. It also appeared to have no fur or ears, drooping jowls dripping with saliva and eyes that gleamed. </p>
<p>She gasped harshly, realizing all at once that the eyes were not reflecting light because <i>there was no light.</i> Whatever this creature was, its large round eyes were <i>glowing.</i> </p>
<p>"What is <i>that?"</i> she whispered.</p>
<p>"--eh?" Beetlejuice replied, slightly annoyed something else had caught her attention when it should've been his. But her hands had become tight on his shoulders, and it wasn't in a good way. He turned to see what she could possibly be looking at.</p>
<p>The skulking shape even gave him a start, and his cold blood ran colder.</p>
<p><i>"Dziban,"</i> he said in a choked voice.</p>
<p>Suddenly, he wasn't sure what to do. He could get out of here, but didn't know if he could pull Pate through the ether with him, and like their distantly related-cousins the Hounds of Tindalos, they could travel through it too. Boost her back up into the church? Just fucking <i>run?</i> Frozen by indecision was a poor choice, but no option was a good one.</p>
<p>For <i>Beetlejuice</i> of all people to sound thoroughly shaken seemed a bad sign. The creature--Dziban, he'd called it?-- was skulking closer, peering at them with its gaping, pupil-less eyes. It looked emaciated, the mange-dark skin pulled tight over every bone and muscle. Pate shivered, her hands tightening on Beetlejuice's shoulders at the disturbingly human front paws, the toes as long as her own fingers and tipped with claws that clacked on the pavement as it padded ever nearer. </p>
<p><i>"Beej, what do we do?"</i> she gulped, almost more frightened of this beast than she had been of the specter's malevolent sibling.</p>
<p>"You're going to go. Just put your head down and get the fuck out of here," he told her fiercely. No time for pithy comments now. He kept his eyes on the vaguely canid creature padding closer. "Rigel called Dziban out of that fucking book. I'm sure he sent it after me, so I'll keep it distracted."</p>
<p>He risked a look at her.</p>
<p>"Pate, just go!"</p>
<p>In the second he'd taken his eyes off Dziban, it'd covered a third of the block. He'd forgotten they could slip through corporeal space too. With its lipless mouth, it looked like it was smiling at the two of them, even as a thin tongue slipped between its teeth to test the air.</p>
<p>"Seriously, baby, you've gotta go!"</p>
<p>Beetlejuice put a hand on her shoulder and pushed as he stepped between her and the creature.</p>
<p>Her heart was hammering like she'd sprinted a mile already, watching the thing close the distance between them. She stood paralyzed on shaking legs, unable to follow Beetlejuice's command even if she wanted to. Fear had its talons in her, but she dithered, torn between giving in to her body's own instinct to run like a terrified rabbit or the compulsion to find some sort of weapon to protect herself and him. </p>
<p>When he positioned himself protectively in front of her, giving her shoulder a stiff shove to get her moving, it seemed the decision was made. She turned to bolt and was met with another pair of brightly glowing eyes and exposed teeth. She screamed and backpedaled away from a second creature.</p>
<p>Fucking fuck fuck <i>fuck!</i></p>
<p>How could he have been so fucking stupid not to remember Dziban travelled in a fucking <i>pair?!</i></p>
<p>At Pate's scream Beetlejuice spun, saw the second Dziban, and grabbed her. Pulling her off balance, he shoved her against the wall of the church, keeping himself between her and the creatures as best as possible. They had the two of them flanked, and they were going to play with them like prey, and drag them back to the Netherworld maybe alive but mostly dead.</p>
<p>Again without taking the time to give her any indication what he was going to do, he spun, grabbed Pate again, and shoved her upwards towards the broken window again.</p>
<p>"Get the fuck <i>in!"</i> he ordered, even as the first creature took the opportunity to rush him.</p>
<p>Pate gave a startled yelp when Beetlejuice seized her around the waist and all but threw her back at the window which she had neglected to close. Hands and arms scrabbling for purchase, she just managed to catch herself when his supporting hands left her, her ears filled with hellish snarls and growls. Contorting awkwardly, half in and half out of the window, Pate turned to see that one of the monsters had charged at Beetlejuice while the other remained fixated on her.</p>
<p>He just barely had the time to hoist her upward before Dziban was on him. He twisted as it launched itself at him; it was large enough to easily reach his throat but he managed to deflect it from its goal with his shoulder instead. Still, that got it close enough for purchase with its hands, and he had to grapple it while off balance. Pate <i>still</i> hadn't pulled herself fully into the church! He decided it was dark enough and plus the fact that fucking hellhounds were attacking them a few extra otherworldly phenomenon wasn't going to break any tourist's brain any further, so instead of trying to fend off the beast with the two most human hands he owned, the black tentacles erupted from the ether and wrapped around Dziban. They lent shadow mass to him as well, and helped stabilize him a little.</p>
<p>It <i>hurt</i> grabbing this thing; why did every fucking creature from the Netherworld have some weird extra ability?! Dziban were angry, hungry creatures and <i>of course</i> they had poisonous skin like goddamn frogs too! Why wouldn't that be the case?! he thought bitterly as the tentacles holding it most tightly ached and became weaker.</p>
<p>It still bit and scratched and that hurt too.</p>
<p>
  <i>And Pate still wasn't through that goddamned window!</i>
</p>
<p>She tried to keep an eye on Beetlejuice as she squatted uncomfortably in the open window while also keeping the second hellhound occupied. She whistled to it like it really was just an overgrown border collie, letting her arm dangle down as low as she dared to tantalize it into keeping its attention on her. </p>
<p>When Dziban raised itself onto its hind legs to snap at her, she jerked her hand back, whimpering quietly when its horrifically humanoid paws gouged furrows down the cement wall. Turning her attention back to Beetlejuice she could see the writhing shadowy tentacles she had first glimpsed when they fought with Rigel in her apartment. They were wrapped around the hellhound's body, holding its clawed paws and snapping jaws at bay while others coiled around its throat, squeezing tighter and tighter until the beast's struggling started to weaken. </p>
<p>As if homing in on its twin's distress, the second hound turned toward the demon, growling. She wanted to call him, to warn him, but she worried that if she distracted him now the other hellhound might break free. With a tiny gasp she remembered the bottle tucked under her arm, whipping the cap off with fumbling fingers and holding it out as far as she could reach, dripping an uninterrupted stream down Dziban's back. </p>
<p>The hellhound flinched and snarled, shaking itself very much like a regular dog, but was otherwise unaffected and Pate's heart sank into her stomach like a lead weight. </p>
<p>
  <i>“Consecrated Holy Water from the river Jordan my ass!”</i>
</p>
<p>It took more concentration and strength to effectively keep teeth and nails off him, especially feeling the effects of whatever venom the thing was secreting, but his tentacles held tight and slowly, slowly, Dziban's life slipped away. With a feral grin on his face, it gave him almost orgasmic joy to see the light fading from the creature's pupil-less eyes, even as it continued to snap and scrabble at him. A sudden splashing of water startled him, but the tentacles knew their work and continued slowly crushing. Pate's yell was more distracting, and he didn't catch what she'd said, so he turned to see what was happening.</p>
<p>In his moment of distraction, the beast he held struggled mightily so he turned back to focus on it again. That was enough to give the second Dziban--or the same Dziban, weren't they fucking clones or hiveminds or something?!--enough opportunity to leap forward and grab him.</p>
<p>Not by a tentacle, not by his suit: the hellhound's jaws closed on his shoulder and upper arm, and Beetlejuice went to his knees in agony.</p>
<p><i>"BEEJ!"</i>she screamed, horrified, too far away to do anything other than spectate as the hellhound sank its teeth into his shoulder. </p>
<p>God<i>dammit,</i> she had to do something! Craning to look over her shoulder back into the church, eyes searching desperately for something, <i>anything</i> she could use to fight them off him. There was a tall decorative cross of gilded, gold colored metal set in a stand. Struggling to lower her legs back down to the chair, Pate raced across the room, snatched the processional cross in both hands and ran back to the window, hauling herself up and pulling the pole with her. </p>
<p>Without Beetlejuice there to catch her, the drop back down to the ground looked much more daunting, but she took a breath and jumped. A painful jolt rocketed from her ankles to her knees and she pitched forward, catching herself on her elbows with a pained grunt. Getting to her feet, Pate gripped the standard tightly in both hands and raced forward, jabbing at the hellhound's ribs with the pointed end of the metal cross. </p>
<p>"Get the fuck <i>off him!"</i></p>
<p>He had to get up. No fucking way was he going to be dragged down by fucking Rigel's fucking beasts! Beetlejuice snarled wordlessly and refused to loosen his grip on Dziban number one. It was fading fast. The second he tried to twist away from, to protect his head and neck, and then, from nowhere, a metal pole slammed into the creature, staggering it and forcing it to release him.</p>
<p>Pate looked scared and fierce, but she shouldn't be here--!</p>
<p>She obviously didn't get the message. She swung whatever that pole was, barely missing his head, and stabbed at Dziban again. Whether it was the metal it was made of or the fact it was a religious artifact, it made the hellhound jump back a bit. It gave a whiney, snarly noise that had no earthly equivalent, and it faded away. The one he had grappled also slipped away like water in cupped hands. Beetlejuice wasn't sure if he'd killed it or it was taken by its kin.</p>
<p>It was suddenly too quiet, and pain caught up to him. He was glad he was still on his knees, because he would have probably collapsed if he hadn't been.</p>
<p>Just as suddenly as they'd appeared, the hellbeasts seemed to evaporate like fog burnt away by sunlight. Pate's chest was still heaving, her blood singing in her ears and her heart thumping a frantic tattoo in her chest. Not sure if the demon hounds may come back, she kept a tight hold on her improvised weapon and lowered herself on trembling legs next to Beetlejuice. His pale face was somehow even paler, eyes pinched shut and jaw clenched in obvious pain. </p>
<p>She exhaled a quiet string of expletives at the sight of the dark liquid seeping through his fingers, gripped tightly around the bite wound on his shoulder. </p>
<p>"Can you stand up?" she asked softly and after a moment he swallowed hard and gave her a stiff nod, shifting his feet and rising a little unsteadily. </p>
<p>Pate stood with him, one arm held out as if to catch him if he lost his balance. She was loathe to drop the processional cross but she needed both arms, positioning herself under his uninjured arm and taking it around her shoulders while her own arm wrapped around his waist to help support him. </p>
<p>"I've got you," she murmured, uttering other meaningless soothing words to him as they limped back towards the hotel. </p>
<p>
  <i>tbc . . . </i>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pate kept an arm around Beetlejuice’s waist as they hustled down the sidewalk, drawing only minimal strange looks from fellow pedestrians. Even the demon shuffling along beside her, with his dilapidated suit of carnival stripes speckled with moss and his gravity-defying hair that had become an odd shade of washed out grey barely made a blip in the loud and clamorous ambiance that was Las Vegas. </p>
<p>Pate frowned worriedly. Beej was being uncharacteristically quiet, his lips pressed together in a hard line. His dark blood--did demons bleed? He certainly seemed to be--continued to ooze sluggishly from the punctures hidden beneath the soiled sleeve of his jacket. </p>
<p>Spotting a small chain drug store Pate stopped him with a hand to his chest, steered him into the building and left him propped against a vacant register counter with whispered promises to be right back, dashing into the aisles to collect gauze, bandages, antiseptic, whatever she thought might help him. The bored college age kid at the open checkout rang her up and she collected her companion, letting out a relieved sigh when the brightly lit neon lotus outside their hotel came into view. In no time at all she was shouldering open their door, instructing Beetlejuice to seat himself on a bed while she opened the medical supplies.</p>
<p>He didn’t remember much of the walk back to the hotel. His mind was fuzzy from the poison he’d taken in; somewhere in the recesses of his mind he remembered it wasn’t a poison meant to kill but paralyze so the ‘hound(s) could make a victim suffer was they were dragged into the Netherworld or played with until they were torn to pieces.</p>
<p>The pain in his shoulder, however, that fought the numbness. It ached down to the bone.</p>
<p>He was vaguely aware of being in a place where the lights were so white they hurt his eyes. Pate had left him, <i>left him</i> and that made him try to call after her, but although he was screaming inside no one reacted to him, so it must have been nothing on the outside. Then she was back and he found himself out on the street again. Her arm around his waist grounded him.</p>
<p>Then time shifted and they were in the hotel room. Pate was pulling at his jacket and that hurt, <i>hurt,</i> and from somewhere down a tunnel she was telling him she was sorry but it needed to come off, she needed to see the damage--</p>
<p>--time shifted again and he was no longer wearing his jacket, tie, or shirt. His suspenders were at either side of him, like flaccid wings. Pate was nowhere to be seen, but that was because--</p>
<p>“OUCH!” Beetlejuice complained, flinching away from the new pain that she was inflicting on him. He was suddenly more awake and aware.</p>
<p>Pate was behind him on the mattress, doing her best to clean the ugly wound in his shoulder with one of the hotel’s hand towels. Despite his protest, she continued to pick fabric out of the injury, telling him that she needed to get it all out before she really cleaned it and patched it up.</p>
<p>He liked it better when he was dull, but the agony of her working on his shoulder won the battle against the poison. He gritted his teeth and bore it, hissing random cuss words or jerking when there was a particularly sharp stab of pain.</p>
<p>When Pate asked that he tell her about the Dziban, he knew it was to distract him. He countered that her boobs would probably work better, but her silence after that grunted tease made him sigh.</p>
<p>“They’re another demon,” he sighed. “But lesser, lesser--jesus! Did you stick your whole finger in there?!--demons, so they can be bound to a higher ranking demon. My delightful brother Rigel must have called them up to do some of his dirty work. They travel in pairs, like you saw, and they’re . . . I don’t know, clones or replicants or something. They share a hivemind, like, so what one feels the other does too.” He broke off to arch his back and yelp; he grabbed a pillow and bit it at the wracking pain. When he could speak again, he twisted to say angrily, “Seriously?! Are you pouring fucking alcohol on my back?!”</p>
<p>She confirmed she was cleaning his shoulder with alcohol.</p>
<p>“That’s a fucking waste of good alcohol,” he replied.</p>
<p>He was informed drily that it was rubbing alcohol, not whiskey. This wasn’t the Old West, she reminded him sharply.</p>
<p>“I’m gonna heal faster than you expect, baby,” Beetlejuice retorted.</p>
<p> He could already feel the tissue start to knit back together, deep in the wound, and he’d outlasted the effects of the poison. Still, he had to admit that her taking care of him was unexpected and not unwelcome, now that he could start to compartmentalize and keep the pain from being everything in the world. Despite what felt like steelwool scraping against him -- “This hotel needs to use fabric softener!” he complained -- she was actually trying to be gentle as she wrapped his shoulder awkwardly in the bandaging she’d bought.</p>
<p>Pate breathed a sigh of relief when Beetlejuice began to come around from whatever daze had fallen over him. She went as gently as she could, swabbing away the dark stains on his skin, covering it in gauze and finally wrapping it with the bandage. </p>
<p>"I think that's about all the damage I can do," she told him, rolling up the used and bloodied wads of cotton balls and the hotel towel into a ball. "How're you feeling? You seem more like yourself."</p>
<p>"I could use a drink. Wanna raid the minibar?"</p>
<p>She laughed softly through her nose. He was definitely back to his old self. Sliding all the first aid paraphernalia into her arms, she carelessly deposited it on the table by the TV stand and bent over, opening the small refrigerator. </p>
<p>"You've earned it," she replied, withdrawing two bottles from inside and returning to sit next to him on the bed, passing him one. </p>
<p>Beetlejuice opened his and immediately took a long pull, Pate's fingers tapping idly on the neck of her bottle. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the swath of bandages around his shoulder. </p>
<p>"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "Going after the holy water was my idea, and you got hurt and then the water was a total bust."</p>
<p>The beer was cold. That was the best thing that could be said for it, but he chugged it anyway.</p>
<p>"It's okay, baby," he assured her, even as he winced a little, testing the range of motion in it. "Now we know that the church is lying about their holy water and that Rigel is willing to play dirty."</p>
<p>He tipped the beer back, and found it empty. It dawned on him she hadn't had any of hers, and even worse, he'd been so out of it he didn't know how she was doing. A forbidden book, calling two demons, traveling across the country, breaking into a church, being attacked by Dziban . . .  he cocked an eyebrow at her. </p>
<p>"Are you okay? Did you get hurt? You need something stronger than this beer that’s so weak it could probably legally drive in some states?"</p>
<p>Her hands were getting cold from holding the beer bottle. She set it on the nightstand and didn't answer right away, mulling over his questions. </p>
<p>Was she okay? Sure, considering the unprecedented turn her life had taken in a very short span of time. After accidentally summoning not one but two demons, she thought she'd handled things rather well. Was she hurt? A little scuffed up maybe, after jumping out of a window onto pavement, but she hardly noticed the minor scrapes and bumps. Which just left the question of what she needed. What <i>did</i> she need? </p>
<p>Pate turned her head to look at him, studying the expectant look on his face, his honey colored eyes and the long lashes. She remembered the way fear had punched her in the gut when she watched him fall to his knees with the hellhound's teeth in him, the fury that had seized her when she all but threw herself into the fray armed with nothing but a flagpole. She swallowed, realizing almost as if for the first time that he was sitting there beside her shirtless. When she was tugging his clothing off him to assess his injury it hadn't even occurred to her, but now the close proximity to his naked torso was sending little shivers down her spine, heat blooming outward from the points of contact between them. </p>
<p>What did she need?</p>
<p>Still saying nothing yet, Pate rose to her feet and moved to stand between his knees, smiling softly when he blinked up at her. </p>
<p>"I think I just need you," she said, hands moving to either side of his face as she leaned down to kiss him.</p>
<p>When she got off the mattress, he figured she was moving to the other bed. Then he was surprised by her nudging his knees apart and stepping in between his legs. When she said she needed him, and went so far as to kiss him, his jaw loosened at the pressure of her mouth on his but he sat dumbly, unsure what to think. His tongue was more responsive, touching hers softly, but after a few moments of soft give and take she pulled back just a bit and he realized he was still holding the beer bottle in one hand.</p>
<p>He dropped it; it landed with a quiet sound on the carpet as he took her waist.</p>
<p>"Pate . . . this is just adrenaline. You don't need to do this . . ." he muttered, wishing he could just pull her down into his lap.</p>
<p>Her smile widened and she hummed appreciatively when his hands found her waist. His hesitation was understandable, considering the disaster she'd made of things the last time they found themselves in bed together. She shook her head once firmly, leaning in to press her lips softly to his forehead, his temple, while one hand curled around his neck to thread her fingers through the hair at his nape, the other lightly scratching the scruff on his jaw with her short, blunt nails. </p>
<p>"I let myself get scared before," she said, pausing to pepper the other side of his face with short, sweet kisses. "But I'm not scared anymore. I want this. I want <i>you."</i>  As he had done before, she backed away a bit, giving him some room to think, giving him an out if he wanted it. "Do you?"</p>
<p>Gods, he could drift forever while her fingers scratched his scalp and jaw. Her lips were warm and each place she pressed them it felt like she'd touched him with a flame. His head lolled a little, trying to tag along as her lips left his skin the last time and his shoulder seized up. It made him gasp, but it was exactly at the same time she whispered the three <i>other</i> words he loved to hear so much, and were much more rare, "I want you", so he prayed he played the pain off as surprised desire.</p>
<p>He looked directly up at her, noticing for the first time the green in her eyes. </p>
<p>"How could I not?" he replied breathlessly, pulling her back in closer to him, wanting her bodily against him.  "Yes, Pate. I do!"</p>
<p>She giggled when he tugged her in close, her arms winding naturally around his neck as she grinned, chewing softly on her bottom lip. Another shiver of delight went down her back at the chill of his naked chest flush against her. Mindful of his injury she leaned in, kissing a line from the corner of his mouth across his cheekbone to his ear. Taking his earlobe gently between her teeth, she let go after just a moment to whisper, </p>
<p><i>"Well then what're you waiting for?"</i> hoping it was all the permission he'd need.</p>
<p>Even separated by her clothing he could feel the heat of her. He threw any remaining caution to the wind; she wouldn't be kissing him and --oh <i>gods! --</i> nipping his ear if she wasn't serious about this. With a playful growl at her compliance, he tightened his hold on her and used his lower center of gravity to twist her off her feet, throwing her to the mattress beside him but leaving her legs draped over his lap. He moved with her and he ended up still chest to chest with her, slightly above because he propped himself up on an elbow while his other hand, the one with the injured shoulder that he actively tried to ignore, slipped up the back of her thigh to her ass to steady her in her precarious, awkward position.</p>
<p>Before she could protest or complain about that, he leaned down and captured her mouth with more vigor than the soft, tentative kisses they'd just shared.</p>
<p>Pate laughed aloud, a bright and enthusiastic sound as he literally swept her off her feet. She bounced once on the springy mattress before he pressed her down into the comforter. She got another tantalizing glimpse of the silver nipple piercings before she lost sight of them as he lowered himself over her, twisting at the waist to face her while her legs lay over his thighs. Even with the barrier of her jeans still between them she sighed and hummed at the feeling when his hand moved up her leg to grasp her butt, her mouth immediately occupied with his. Her lips parted for him, soft sounds escaping her as his tongue slid in, one hand carding through his hair while the other curled around the side of his neck, holding him close.</p>
<p>At the noise she made, a laugh that faded to a soft, needy sigh, he growled again, still playful but tinted with possessiveness. Any beautiful woman who allowed him to bodily move her and was so responsive to his advances kicked him into higher gear, and arousal flooded him. He sucked her tongue, his hand slipped under her shirt to inch its way upward along her ribs to encounter the fabric and underwire of her bra, which he also tried to wiggle his fingertips under. Stymied by its fit, he dragged his fingernails back downward and squeezed her ass before that was too little as well.</p>
<p>Between kisses--her fingers accidentally, slightly pulling his hair when they tried to slip though knots made him gasp, which broke their lip lock--he murmured into her mouth,</p>
<p>“Too much clothing. Let’s get naked.”</p>
<p>Pate shivered again at that throaty, primal sound rumbling from deep in his chest. Warmth pooled in the floor of her pelvis, her hand gliding down his neck, over his collarbone to rest on his chest while the other continued winding in his surprisingly soft hair. She moaned against his mouth, feeling heat prickling when his cool fingers shimmied their way under her shirt to skate up her body. </p>
<p>Her back arched and she moaned louder when his hand slid back down, his nails raking over her skin and causing goosebumps to erupt from her scalp all the way down to her toes it seemed. She felt her fingers catch in his hair, heard him gasp. Panting, she chased his mouth with her own as he drew back, his pupils blown wide and a grin on his face.</p>
<p>At his words, Pate grinned, too, feeling heat in her cheeks.</p>
<p>"Thought you'd never ask," she joked.</p>
<p>He grinned. "Then what're you waiting for?"</p>
<p>But as she struggled to get up and off him to comply, he didn't release her. As a matter of fact, he held her more tightly, just to hear her laugh of protest as she pushed against his chest.</p>
<p>"Watch the nips," he told her, as they were caught under her palms, even though the pressure and slight tug against them sent tendrils of pleasure through his chest. But he softened the warning with a tease, "What's wrong, Pate? Can't get up? I thought you wanted this, but not getting naked after you said you wanted to? That's just downright rude. Do I have to do all the work around here?"</p>
<p>And before she could actually get angry, with a thought all the clothing, sans the satin panties he'd nicked from her, between them disappeared. It was a cheap parlor trick, but it never failed to make people gasp in surprise. It worked but it was on him too; a suddenly naked woman pressed against him and over his lap was not how he'd expected this night to go. He drank in the sight of her hungrily.</p>
<p>Pate couldn't help the tiny exclamation when every scrap of her clothing simply winked out of existence. A flush bloomed in her cheeks, both from the complete exposure to Beetlejuice's eyes and hands and also from the sensation: his skin against hers, cooler but gradually warming as it leeched body heat from her. </p>
<p>Her tongue darted out, swiping across her parted lips as she watched his face, his eyes roving over every bit of her that he could see. Her heart was pounding in her ears, her stomach cutting backflips as she let her hands roam over his chest and shoulders, taking care not to stray too close to the bandages. </p>
<p>She traced the pads of her fingers through the tufts of green hair that dusted his pecs, nibbling on her bottom lip again as she made wide circles around his nipples. The piercings, she could now see, were circular shields shaped like serpents, biting their own tails.</p>
<p>Skin to skin with her made him shudder and moan. Her hands on him, now not corralled by clothing, made his eyes close and him moan obscenely.</p>
<p>His hand wasn't idle. Stretching it too far up her body made his shoulder ache, and too much of that was the exact opposite of what he wanted right now, so he left his hand on her thigh and hip. She'd arched so prettily for him before; he wanted to see her do it again. His fingers brushed across her stomach low enough to brush the thatch of hair at his ultimate goal.</p>
<p>Although her hands were still on his chest, he dipped his head and caught the side of her neck in a kiss that included a little teeth, because he wanted a mark on her skin.</p>
<p>God, how had she never realized before that hearing somebody else moan because of her was so <i>hot?</i> In the past, she'd kept quiet while tending to herself. She'd been relatively quiet thus far. But between his fingertips coming <i>so close</i> to where she most wanted them and his lips and teeth on her neck and the sharp, chilly crush of his nipple piercings against her that sent tiny forks of electricity shooting across her skin, Pate gasped loudly, her eyes fluttering closed while her hands curled reflexively between them, scratching his chest. Her thighs squeezed together in his lap and she turned her head, giving him more room at her neck. </p>
<p>"Mm, Beej . . . baby . . ." she sighed, unable to find any more words than that. For all that he'd called her smart and brainy, just at the moment her mind was swirling in a haze of need and want and desire.</p>
<p>He felt her tremble and the flex of her legs, bringing them together, seeking friction. He knew the feeling, but his cock still trapped behind wine-colored satin gave him some pleasurable ache for the moment.</p>
<p>He chuckled and told her quietly, "That's the exact opposite of what I want, baby. Spread those thighs."</p>
<p>He tapped at her, right on her pubic bone, as if to add weight to the request.</p>
<p>When he laughed she felt it rumble through his chest, vibrating against her. His breath ghosted across the dampened and sensitized skin up the side of her neck and Pate hummed at the tingle that went down her back straight to her crotch. Wriggling one hand from between them to brace against the mattress, she shifted her hips to accommodate his request, though it was difficult to open her legs much due to the position. </p>
<p>She scooted herself back as much as she could to make enough room to bring one leg between them, hooking it around his waist and tugging herself back close to him. Her breathing picked up a bit now that he was between her legs properly, reaching up to thread her fingers through the hair at his temple. Her other hand remained on his chest, stroking lightly in random patterns and shapes, brushing his nipple every other pass or so. </p>
<p>"This more what you had in mind?" she asked, grinning.</p>
<p>Her shifting to get one leg around him was <i>not</i> what he had in mind; it was infinitely better. Her spread legs put her on beautiful display, and immediately, like he was hypnotized, he dropped his hand to her pussy. His fingers slipped easily down through her folds. Christ, he’d forgotten how nice it was to fondle a wet pussy, and he brought his hand back up to his mouth for a taste of her.</p>
<p>He groaned around his own fingers at the flavor of her, and he glanced back up to her face, pupils blown wide.</p>
<p>She moaned and writhed when his fingers finally <i>finally</i> pressed into the wet heat between her thighs, the leg around him jerking as if to pull him in even closer.</p>
<p><i>"Fuck!"</i> she rasped, one hand grasping at the back of his neck while the other snaked under his arm to clasp at his shoulder blade. </p>
<p>She let out a pitiful whine when she felt his fingers leave her, opening her eyes and watching, riveted, as he brought the slick-coated digits to his mouth, groaning at the taste. Holy shit did she love it when he made that sound, feeling muscles in her nether regions clench in anticipation. Pate swallowed, licking her parted lips. </p>
<p>"Can I have a taste?" she asked.</p>
<p>He winced at the tug on his shoulder; even though it wasn't the injured one it rippled to it. But he ignored it, and at her request, he grinned.</p>
<p>With a quick swipe through her pussy again, he stuck one finger back into his mouth, then offered his digits for her to suck. Even as she opened her mouth and he pressed two into her mouth, however, he leaned in close. When her lips closed on his fingers, he moaned.</p>
<p>She caught the minute pained grimace that crossed his face, quick as thought, and moved her hand from his shoulder further down to the bottom of his ribs. She shivered again when his fingers moved through her folds, sighing deeply when she took his fingers into her mouth. </p>
<p>Smiling around them at the delicious moan that he let out, Pate sucked on his fingers, laving her tongue over the pads, scraping ever-so-slightly with her teeth at the soft skin between his first and second knuckles. She wanted to make him make that sound again. The hand on his side gave his love handle a squeeze while she dragged the other from his neck, over his chest to play with that piercing again, thumbing it gently.</p>
<p>"Oh <i>fuck,"</i> Beetlejuice groaned as she put pressure on his fingers. He could only imagine what her mouth would feel like around his cock, which still strained in her panties.</p>
<p>And when Pate squeezed him and gave some attention to his nipple, he gave a full-body shudder.</p>
<p>"How do you want this, baby? Tell me what you want me to do to you?" he gasped, suddenly needy.</p>
<p>The groan, the way he shivered against her, the desperate edge to his voice had her blood racing, scorching hot in her veins. She let his fingers go with a soft <i>pop!,</i> holding his gaze fast as she reached to catch his hand with hers, holding it in place as she pressed her lips to his knuckles while her other hand roamed lower down his body, up and over his hip, scratching and kneading at the small of his back, watching his eyelashes flutter so beautifully, his mouth dropping slightly open. </p>
<p>Her fingers met scratchy lace and smooth satin and she grinned, copying his move from before and working her fingers under the elastic band to tease at the top of one ass cheek. Craning her neck to kiss his slackened mouth, Pate pressed her forehead against his cheek. </p>
<p>"I want you inside me, baby," she murmured. "Tongue, fingers, cock, whichever you want, but <i>I need you, Beej. Please."</i></p>
<p>He panted, not out of necessity, but because that was what breathers expected and it conveyed his deep need. Her fingers were sinful and when she snapped the elastic of her own underwear, he jerked forward. He could feel the damp patch on the satin and he could drive nails with his cock it was so hard.</p>
<p>She said she wanted it all; <i>he</i> wanted it all, and all at once. Without further ado, he slipped his hand back to her pussy, still wet from spit, and he didn't hesitate to slip one finger inside her, while applying steady pressure on her clit with the meat of his palm.</p>
<p>Pate arched up against him, letting her head drop back against the mattress with a moan as his finger entered her. When he pressed down against her clit with the flat of his palm her eyes squeezed shut and she hissed through her teeth at the crackling pleasure radiating outward from her pussy. Her hips jerked upward against his hand, her own hands raking across his chest and further down to give his ass an encouraging squeeze. </p>
<p>She was melting, it seemed, but it felt so wonderful, so perfect. She breathed his name, careful to limit herself to her chosen nickname for him.</p>
<p>"That good, baby? That's just one finger, and your pussy's so <i>tight,"</i> he growled, then yelped a little at the scratches she gave him. Her hand on his ass made him gasp; she pulled so many noises from him, including another moan at his name from her lips.</p>
<p>He dipped his head to plant a sloppy kiss on her chest, then nipped the spot. He did not remove his finger, but curled it up into her,  maintaining that pressure on her clit.</p>
<p>He was going to need to get out of these panties and fast, or the friction of them was going to make him jizz before he was ready!</p>
<p>She bucked harder under him as his finger moved inside her. </p>
<p><i>"Ah!</i> Beej, oh, fuck!" With his head lowered to her chest, worrying the flesh between his teeth, his tongue lapping at the mark, she rubbed her cheek against the crown of his head, first one and then the other letting out soft whimpers as she did. </p>
<p>"What . . ." she gasped, a thought occurring to her. "What about you?" </p>
<p>To emphasize her point, the hand on his ass moved upward, dragging her nails against him while she bent her knee to trace her heel up his hamstring.</p>
<p>Hooking her leg up higher gave him freer access between her thighs. What about him? He still wanted it all, and nothing was moving quickly enough.</p>
<p>Without a word of warning he removed his hand and bodily swung her into a less awkward position on the bed, onto her back, smiling at her gasp of surprise. He went between her legs and now, with more freedom of movement, pulled one of her nipples into his mouth. He rolled it between his teeth until it was tight, then he nipped his way down her body, looking up at her occasionally to make sure she was fine with it all, before settling between her thighs.</p>
<p>Her pussy was wet and inviting, and he flicked his eyes up to hers, holding them as he dragged his tongue upward through her heat. The tip of his tongue found the nub of her clit, and he lapped it softly, learning what she liked best.</p>
<p>Pate gasped in surprise and excitement when he jostled her to a new position, keening when his mouth found one of her nipples and teased it to hardness with his teeth. She dipped her chin to watch him, chewing on her own lip as he left a trail of soft, tantalizing bites down her torso. Between him locking eyes with her as his tongue dipped into her folds and the ripple of pleasure that clenched in her gut as he licked at the sensitive nerve bundle a loud moan was pulled from her throat. Her fingers twisted in the bedspread as her mouth fell open, but she didn't look away from him. </p>
<p>She <i>had</i> offered him his choice of what to fuck her with, and she was thrilled but not surprised to see that he'd evidently decided to go with all three.</p>
<p>
Oh fuck the taste of her made him drool. Beetlejuice sucked her clit, then licked her from top to bottom, then repeated the sequence. He slipped his tongue into her, but fingers were better for that, so he focused on her clit while he put two fingers into her cunt. He watched her throw her head back at the double stimulation, then let his own eyes fall shut as he continued.
</p>
<p>
  <i>Focusing on her helped make him ignore the ache in his own groin, but his hips couldn't stop from rutting into the bedspread. It wasn't perfect, but it did give him some friction that his cock was so desperately demanding. He wanted to make her come, however, so he kept up what he was doing as her voice hitched higher and her thighs started to tremble.
</i></p><p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
Pressure was building between her legs, her head tossing side to side as Beetlejuice fingerfucked her with gusto, his tongue lavishing her clit with unwavering attention. She tried not to actively hump his face, the stubble on his chin and cheeks scraping against her in a way that only accelerated her approaching climax. She gasped and moaned wantonly, one hand now squeezing at her own breast in time with his thrusting fingers while the other reached down, fumbling, to bury in Beej's hair. 
</p>
<p>
"Beej, I'm, <i>mmmmm!</i> I'm so close, baby," she whined.
</p>
<p>
"Then come for me, baby," he whispered in her ear, while his mouth was occupied.
</p>
<p>
His voice, husky and rich and so close to her ear, was all it took to tip her over the edge. 
</p>
<p>
Pate came with a cry, her core muscles tightening and raising her slightly off the bed while her thighs pressed Beetlejuice's head between them. Like a breaking wave, pleasure crashed over her in an undulating tide that seemed to drag her out of her own body for a moment before she came back to herself, leaving behind a fuzzy, bubbly warmth that traveled up her back and made her shiver as she panted, lying flat against the mattress again to catch her breath, feeling Beej's fingers still buried in her pussy, his licking slowed but not stopped as she rode out her orgasm. 
</p>
<p>
Her head rolled to one side, a lazy smile on her face as she caught his glittering golden eyes.
</p>
<p>
Her cry and her thighs capturing his head made him grin. The tightening of her pussy, awash with wetness, made him continue to lap at her as she enjoyed her pleasure. Not until she relaxed and was able to look at him again did he stop, easing his fingers out of her and giving her one last quick swipe with his tongue just to feel her jump again. Then he sat back with a grin on his face as he wiped a little of the wetness off his face and beard.
</p>
<p>
 "That was hot as fuck, sugar," he praised.
</p>
<p>
There was a sheen of sweat on her skin, she could feel it, but it didn't stop him from looking at her like he was a starving man before a banquet table. Pate laughed softly, tousling her damp hair before sitting up, her muscles already burning pleasantly with exertion.
</p>
<p>
"That felt hot as fuck, Love Bug," she teased back, crooking her finger at him much the way he had curled his own in her cunt a short while ago. "C'mere and let <i>me</i> love on <i>you</i> now."
</p>
<p>
He raised his eyebrows and smirked.
</p>
<p>
"Sounds good, baby."
</p>
<p>
Pressing kisses to random spots on her body as he went, Beetlejuice slowly climbed back onto the mattress on top of her. When she could reach, Pate swept both hands up his arms, from wrists to shoulders, though she was still careful of his injury before cupping his face with one and slipping the other around him.
</p>
<p>
"You made me feel so good, Bug," she cooed when his face was again level with hers, lifting her head to kiss him wherever she could, sweeping one hand through his hair, tugging gently on the silky strands that had turned a brilliant hot pink. "I wanna make you feel good." 
</p>
<p>
Her other hand she smoothed down the curve of his spine, taking her time to scratch little circles between his shoulder blades, over the back of his ribs and his hip until she caught the elastic waistband of her underwear once more.
</p>
<p>
"As good as these look on you, they'd look better on the floor."
</p>
<p>
"I'm glad you liked them," Beetlejuice groaned with a smile as she caught her panties in her fingers. "They might not, uh, fit you well any more, though. Sorry babe. We'll get some others."
</p>
<p>
He lifted his hips to help her shimmy them off. His cock thanked her for so many reasons.
</p>
<p>
Pate raised an eyebrow archly at him, but couldn't hold it for long before a grin split her face. She was anxious to feel him, to touch him there, she'd come so close before she was desperate to go all the way now. Reaching for him she pulled him down to her, her arms coming around his neck as she kissed him deeply, rolling them both slightly to their sides while their legs tangled together. She sighed through her nose at the feel of his erect member against her abdomen, snaking one hand down his front, dragging her nails lightly down his chest, across the softness of his stomach, heading south to take his shaft in a loose grip.
</p>
<p>
With her tongue in his mouth he moaned in his throat instead as her fingernails scratched down his front to her hand’s final destination: his throbbing cock. Embarrassingly, he’d have rutted against her stomach if she hadn’t; the constriction of her panties had been nice and then frustrating, and her loose grip on him made him tremble and only want more.
</p>
<p>
“Please, Pate,” he begged shamelessly between bouts of capturing her mouth. “I want--I wanna--please!”
</p>
<p>
He was inarticulate and needy, pressed so tightly against her warm body. Her nipples were hard nubs against his chest, his were erect because she’d inadvertently rubbed against his piercings, she was only lightly holding his cock, and she didn’t know it, but she also held all the cards here. A sudden, horrible thought occurred to him. Desperately, he blurted,
</p>
<p>
“Pate, baby--remember I told you it wasn’t smart to cocktease a demon? Fucking--don’t <i>do</i> that, don’t do that to me, baby, please, <i>please--”</i> He broke himself off with an involuntary thrust of his hips.
</p>
<p>
He was so beautiful it physically ached, their bodies flush together, needy open-mouthed kisses to whatever bit of skin they happened to land on. All his little sounds sent bolts of warmth shooting through her, from the center of her chest to her throbbing pussy.
</p>
<p>
To hear him plead and beg, this specter, this demon, this being whose power she couldn't even fully fathom, for him to think she could deny him anything was heartbreaking. But after their last failed foray into intimacy, why shouldn't he worry? Catching the back of his neck with her free hand Pate tugged his face to hers for a quick, fierce kiss, pumping her loose fist up and down his hard cock.
</p>
<p>
"Of course not, sweetheart," she promised. "Go ahead, Beej. I want you to."
</p>
<p>
Hoping the gesture would convince him where words might not, she extricated one of her legs from between his and wrapped it around his hips, pressing her pelvis invitingly forward against him.
</p>
<p>
He almost sobbed at her promise, and her lifting her leg to drape around him. This position, side by side, was a little awkward but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. His injured shoulder protested as he wriggled that arm between them. He ignored it. He slipped his fingers through her pussy again, a little to make her squeal and a little more to figure out exactly where he needed to be, then he shook her hand off him--that was so difficult!--and grabbed himself by the base of his cock.
</p>
<p>
With a little shifting and a little mutual coordination, he managed to finally slip into her pussy.
</p>
<p>
The sweet sensation of it made him shudder. She made some noise too, but there was a ringing in his ears that made it impossible for him to tell exactly what it was. He gave a small thrust of his hips, entering her a little deeper, and couldn’t help but try it again with a larger movement.
</p>
<p>
That was a mistake. Their position didn’t allow for either as deep as he was driven to do, or much movement, and that would never do. Not this time. Maybe this was her favorite position, and he was failing her test. Still, he said in a choked voice,
</p>
<p>
“New plan. On your back, baby. Please?”
</p>
<p>
She hurried to do as he asked, which gave him some relief. From his knees, he dragged his gaze up her body, drinking in the sight of her, before settling between her legs. This was much better. He was still pressed against her, could still kiss her, and with only minor adjustment this time, he smoothly rocked forward and his cock filled her pussy with ease.
</p>
<p>
He bit his lower lip as molten heat engulfed him. She was divine. He thrust into her, and pulled back, creating the most delicious friction. She cried out too, that beautiful sound, and her hands gripped him tightly where they held, on his hips and ass. Pleasure built in his gut, he moaned her name, he tried to kiss her but that was too much, too many nerve-endings, it was going to overwhelm him and he was going to--
</p>
<p>
--the ache in his shoulder suddenly flared into a blistering tsunami of pain. He’d been holding himself up with a rigid arm and immediately dropped to his elbow on that side, but that only made the pain move like some sadistic parasite under his skin. His cries of pleasure took a turn south and he had to stop, no matter how much Pate’s hips continued to rock up towards him, no matter how her own cries faltered at the realization something was wrong.
</p>
<p>
Shooting stars seemed to burst behind her eyes when she felt him slide into her, her arms wrapping as far around him as she could when he trembled against her at the shared sensation. Pate bit down on her lip at the burn as he stretched her, sighing as she gradually relaxed around his girth. It was so foreign at first, the feeling of his length inside her, but when he began to move she moaned into the side of his neck.
</p>
<p>
It wasn't the ideal position, so she was only too happy to oblige his request to change it up, grinning at him as he moved to reposition himself and pressed into her pulsating heat again. Her eyes shut and her mouth opened, falling back against the bed as he set the pace, a notch above slow and sensual but softer than outright rutting. It felt like a spring was coiling in her pelvis, tighter and tighter as he continued to thrust and moan and sigh her name, his lips finding hers in a sloppy, fleeting kiss.
</p>
<p>
Her hands weren't idle, skating up his neck to hold his face, into his hair, down his back, petting, stroking, squeezing. His moans choked off into a hiss and he stilled between her legs and collapsed atop her, his arm folding under him. It took her a beat to realize he hadn't finished, that his face was contorted in pain not pleasure. 
</p>
<p>
"Shit, Beej!" she gasped, her breathing still elevated. "Baby, are you okay?"
</p>
<p>
He wanted nothing more than to continue; he should be able to power through the pain, but he simply couldn't.
</p>
<p>
"I'm sorry, baby!" he apologized into the side of her neck. It made him ashamed that he couldn't even look her in the face too, but to admit a demon couldn't perform because he <i>hurt</i> was too embarrassing. "I can't . . . this position isn't . . . I mean, I like it, I love it, you feel so fucking amazing, but . . . my shoulder . . ."
</p>
<p>
His voice dropped to a near inaudible whisper as he confessed the problem.
</p>
<p>
Pate wrapped her arms around his head and neck, pressing kisses into his hair while she shushed him softly.
</p>
<p>
"You don't have to apologize, Bug," she cooed reassuringly. "I didn't think about that, I'm sorry." She continued to pet his hair while she thought, pecking his temple and saying, "Sit up, baby. Let's try something else."
</p>
<p>
He nodded against her, gasping when he pulled out of her and balanced himself on his knees and one hand.
</p>
<p>
A mournful moan tried to work its way out of her at the feeling of absence, but she ignored it and made sure Beetlejuice was comfortably seated, his legs stretched out in front of him. He wore an uncertain expression, as if he had doubts about her intentions, but the tension left his face when she crawled over to him on her knees and straddled his waist, keeping a light hand on his good shoulder to keep her balance.
</p>
<p>
Reaching between them, she found his cock again, still slick from being inside her twice already, and guided it once more to her entrance. Pate sighed through parted lips as she lowered herself down until seated on his thighs, feeling him shudder against her again. She folded her legs around his lower back, her hands coming to rest on his chest so she could scratch her nails soothingly through the patch of hair there. 
</p>
<p>
"How's that, baby? Will this be okay?"
</p>
<p>
He let her manipulate him into whatever position she wanted, although it surprised him it simply wasn’t doggy style. He figured since he’d failed fucking her in two different positions, though, that she’d take matters into her own hands.
</p>
<p>
What he didn’t expect was this new position, no pressure at all on his shoulder, facing her so he could see and kiss her, her legs wrapped around him, her seated so snugly in the cradle of his pelvis and his cock so deep inside her that he knew now he wasn’t going to last long.
</p>
<p>
He tested moving. There wasn’t much, but he didn’t mind it. Her pussy was still hot and tight around his cock, and being able to gently lean forward to find her mouth was an unexpected but wonderful bonus. From her gasps, Pate didn’t seem to mind that there was very little actual fucking either. Her fingers scratched sweet lines on his chest and he moaned. He wasn’t sure what the limitations of this new position were, but he should do something for her, because in another twenty seconds or so he was going to lose it.
</p>
<p>
“Could you, could you lay back?” he asked in a rush. “This is good, this is great, but I’d love to be able to finger your clit too, to make you feel good, baby. If you want. Only if you want! This feels so good, gods I love this--”
</p>
<p>
If his moans and the rocking of his hips were any indicator, Beetlejuice seemed to take a liking to her suggested arrangement. The actual sex part was largely relegated to simply rocking against one another, but the trade-off was that both their hands were free to explore one another's bodies.
</p>
<p>
She sighed against his lips when he kissed her, tracing whorls in his chest hair and around and over his nipple piercings, leaning in to kiss up and down his neck, feeling the vibrations in her ribcage when he moaned. She blinked, his words taking a moment to break through the fog of pleasure clouding her brain, but then she smiled.
</p>
<p>
"Anything for you, Love Bug," she purred, giving him another peck on the lips before leaning back to lay over the top of his legs, her own still wrapped around his waist.
</p>
<p>
Her compliance gave him a different sort of thrill; someone trusted and liked him enough to agree! He kissed her feverishly before she eased herself backwards to lay over his legs.
</p>
<p>
"Gods, you're fucking beautiful," he breathed, drinking the sight of her in.
</p>
<p>
The position arched her back a little, and her tits jiggled. He loved seeing her hip bones. And now he had access to her pussy, and the sight of the two of them, joined . . . he groaned. It was too much. All of this was too much.
</p>
<p>
After licking his fingers, he dropped his hand to her clit to rub it lightly. She bucked towards him, just a little at the pressure he applied, and he came undone.
</p>
<p>
Beetlejuice grabbed her thigh with the hand not already occupied as he climaxed. He couldn't keep his eyes open and he keened as he came inside her.
</p>
<p>
As he drifted back from the waves of pleasure, it occurred to him he should've asked if that was okay; he should have known her preference, and guilt immediately nipped the heels of the lingering bliss.
</p>
<p>
Still sensitive from having come once already, Pate gasped and moaned at the gentle touch of his fingers against her clit, her hips jerking reflexively into him. She felt the muscles in his legs tense under her, his free hand grasping desperately and landing on her thigh as he finally came himself. It was breathtaking to behold, his eyes shut, his mouth agape as a loud, needful sound forced its way out.
</p>
<p>
The feel of his cock twitching inside her, pumping her full; the feather-light press of his fingers against her clit, the blissed-out look on his face as he rode out his release, it all combined, twisting the spring tighter and tighter in her pelvis until, with a harsh gasp and a cry, she came again as well, her hands fumbling for something to hold onto, gripping the outside of his thigh, twining her fingers into his hand still resting on her leg. Her muscles all relaxed in the post-orgasm come down, feeling like she was sinking into the mattress, her chest heaving for breath. She curled her fingers with his.
</p>
<p>
Beetlejuice managed to pry his eyes open just as Pate was coming down from her own peak. He was happy he made her feel so good. She was gorgeous splayed out in before him, and her reaching for and holding his hand made a sweeter connection than the sex they’d just shared. The last residual pulses of pleasure wound down, and he squeezed her hand.
</p>
<p>
"Want help back up, baby?” he asked quietly. It couldn’t be super comfortable in that position, laying back against his legs, and he told her so. “I love seeing you like that, but you’re gonna be sore if you fall asleep like that.”
</p>
<p>
Pate chuckled tiredly, feeling her heartbeat and breathing returning to normal even as the last flutters of orgasm thrummed through her, leaving her satiated, content, and sleepy. Truth be told, she was starting to feel the strain in her back and her hips so she nodded with an agreeable hum, tightening her hand around his and giving his thigh one last squeeze before letting go to reach for him. 
</p>
<p>
"If you don't mind," she giggled. "Don't strain your shoulder, though."
</p>
<p>
He helped her sit up, using only one arm at her insistence. Back upright and pressed against him again, he stole another deep kiss before she moved off him completely. She left a smear of wet on his thigh, but that was only fair.
</p>
<p>
He flopped back onto the bed, yelped because he'd managed to forget about his shoulder injury for a hot second, and went back to his side.
</p>
<p>
"What now? Room service? Crappy TV? Gonna take a shower? Or do you just wanna sleep, baby?" he asked, peppering her with questions. He felt lazy and sated.
</p>
<p>
 Pate sat where she was and didn't answer right away, grinning at him as he rattled off suggestions. She raised herself onto all fours and crawled to him, fitting herself snuggly against him with a long sigh. 
</p>
<p>
"You had me at sleep," she mumbled, nuzzling her face into the hollow of his throat and pressing a few small, warm kisses there. "Will you be ok? Like this?"
</p>
<p>
She made a vague gesture down their bodies, still nude.
</p>
<p>
"Should I throw something back on?" She didn't want to drop off and leave him in distress, but she also didn't want to move to the other bed.
</p>
<p>
"Wanna be close to you," she breathed, finding it harder and harder to keep her eyes open.
</p>
<p>
"You think I'm gonna turn down being next to a naked woman in a bed that smells like sex? You don't know me very well, baby," he teased. 
</p>
<p>
He did, however, move away to turn the lights off, and helped her under the blankets before joining her again. She was very warm, countering his chill, and he sighed as she snuggled against him. He watched over her as she fell asleep, and then let himself drift in the dark too, feeling content.
</p>
<p>
    <i>tbc</i>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Beetlejuice didn't sleep. He held Pate and listened to her breathing, and felt her twitch and saw her eyelids flutter occasionally as she dreamed. He wondered what she dreamed of, and if she knew the level of trust it took to sleep pressed against a demon willingly.</p>
<p>Her warmth did lull him into drifting in the soft twilight between consciousness and unconsciousness. He never worried about losing feeling in a limb, so he was able to keep her close.</p>
<p>It crossed his mind to kiss her awake, and even more dirtily to stroke her pussy lightly till she noticed--which of course led to other activities in his mind; demons didn't have to wait like human men to get it up again--but he knew she was going to want to get started on their day.</p>
<p>So even as the sunlight shone around the edges of the curtains, they stayed wrapped in the cocoon of blankets, and he waited quietly until she came awake on her own. </p>
<p>Pate slept deeply despite the strange dreams. Beetlejuice’s cool body pressed against hers translated into a comforting presence in her subconscious, soothing and steadfast. A voice was whispering in a language she didn’t speak but somehow understood: </p>
<p><i>“Rijl Jauzah al Yusrā”, “Algebar”, “the left foot of the great one . . . ”</i> </p>
<p>Pate sighed through her nose, trying to wriggle her way deeper into the calming presence beside her. But she was becoming increasingly aware of a peculiar feeling.</p>
<p>It was like . . . indigestion but with pressure instead of pain, as though a force were pressing firmly on her breastbone and between her shoulder blades at the same time. It was enough to finally drag her from the succor of sleep, moaning against Beetlejuice’s chest: </p>
<p>”<i>He’s coming . . .”</i> </p>
<p>She felt him brush loose falls of hair out of her face, tucking them behind her ear. </p>
<p>“Who’s coming, baby?” He murmured back with a smile.</p>
<p>She moaned again and stretched  languorously, smiling back at him. </p>
<p>“I dunno,” she admitted. “It just . . . came out?” </p>
<p>Beetlejuice chuckled at that, his fingers idly stroking her bare arm. </p>
<p>“Just a dream.” </p>
<p>She hummed in agreement and leaned in, pressing a sweet lingering kiss to his lips. From the direction of the door behind him there was a voice: </p>
<p>“Let me stop you before this gets anymore disgustingly saccharine.”</p>
<p>He'd recognize that smarmy voice anywhere, and Beetlejuice started up, half out of the bed as soon as he registered who was in the room.</p>
<p><i>“Rigel!"</i> he spat.</p>
<p>His younger brother, looking as put together as always, grimaced. “For the love of hell, Lawrence! Can you cover that up?”</p>
<p>With an inarticulate roar, without a care he was nude, without thinking, Beetlejuice rushed their uninvited guest. Tentacles erupted from the ether around him, and they'd grabbed Rigel. He bodily slammed his half brother into the wall with a resounding "crack". His hands and tentacles both wrapped around his smooth neck, but instead of fighting back, Rigel grinned.</p>
<p>"Let's rethink this, Lawrence," he suggested smoothly, and cocked his head, looking over Beetlejuice's shoulder towards the bed.</p>
<p>"Beej--!" Pate whispered, her voice tight with fear.</p>
<p>Beetlejuice twisted to look at her. Dziban, both of it, had her flanked. The skeletal hellhounds looked more nightmarish in the modern aesthetics of a hotel room.</p>
<p>"She doesn't have a religious icon to help her now," Rigel told him. "Let's not make it messy in here and lose your deposit."</p>
<p>With another snarl, Beetlejuice released him and backed away. Rigel tugged the hem of his suit jacket to straighten it again.</p>
<p>"You really are pathetic. Sleeping with a breather but leaving her alive? How desperate are you? I'll admit she's pretty, but they're nothing. Something nice to have around and play with, but not something to get attached to."</p>
<p>So many things happened in such quick succession that Pate was left feeling dizzy. Seemingly out of nowhere, Rigel himself had materialized in the room. Before she had time to move, to do anything other than sit bolt upright with a horrified gasp, Beetlejuice had practically thrown himself across the space with an inhuman snarl that made her shiver, the shadow tentacles writhing around him as he grabbed his calmly smiling sibling and pinned him to the wall hard enough to rattle the fixtures. </p>
<p>Pate gathered the sheet with shaking hands, wrapping it around herself, lowering a leg to the floor to . . . do something, anything other than sit there like a terrified animal, jerking her leg back onto the mattress with a harsh yelp when she saw the hellhounds, Dziban, stalking toward her with its hanging jowls and huge luminous eyes, low growls emanating from deep in its shriveled chests.</p>
<p>Retreating until her shoulders met the headboard, Pate could do nothing but call Beej's name, meeting his enraged eyes with a fearful gaze. He turned, seething, back to Rigel and withdrew, the tentacles likewise coiling away from the taller demon. At Rigel's spiteful taunting, Pate could see Beeltejuice's hands, already clenched into angry fists, tighten even more until the tendons stood in sharp relief. </p>
<p>"What do you want?" she demanded from the relative sanctuary of the bed, proud when her voice didn't waver despite her fear. </p>
<p>Rigel turned a withering eye at her, then sighed deeply as though bored to tears.</p>
<p>"Well, little cocksleeve," he sneered. "I'm here to make a deal. Not that I don't enjoy our reunions, Lawrence, but I've got much grander aspirations. Something I don't expect you to understand." </p>
<p>Beetlejuice snarled again, a bestial sound. </p>
<p>"I've come for the other half of the book." </p>
<p>"And why the <i>fuck</i> would we give it to you, you apocalyptic shitstain?" Beetlejuice spat venomously. </p>
<p>Leveling his brother with a long-suffering look, Rigel snapped his fingers and one of the hellhounds leapt onto the bed with startling agility and Pate recoiled with an involuntary shriek.</p>
<p>"This game is amusing but, as I said, I have bigger plans. And for those plans, I need that book. Once I have it, I have no more need to torment either of you. You can scurry off into the sunset together to live or die or fuck to your hearts' content. Otherwise I will have to use . . . . persuasion." </p>
<p>Dziban snapped at her, not close enough to do any damage, but enough to pry another cry from her throat. </p>
<p>"Think it over," Rigel said congenially, as though this were a perfectly normal conversation. "When you make up your minds, throw on some clothes --" He paused to give Beetlejuice a very distinctly unimpressed once over, "--and meet me at the Waldorf Astoria. They'll send you right up." </p>
<p>Snapping his fingers again, both the hellhounds suddenly vanished. </p>
<p>"Tsk, tsk, Lawrence," he said, shaking his head disapprovingly. "Shacked up with a mortal. You're going to break your mother's heart." </p>
<p>Chuckling darkly he too disappeared, leaving nothing behind but a faint plume of acrid smoke.</p>
<p>Still clutching the bed covers like they were a shield, in a shaking voice Pate asked, “What does he mean?”</p>
<p>Beetlejuice shook himself and ran a hand through his hair. His tentacles evaporated like dark vapor and he felt more exposed than before. The burst of adrenaline that coursed through him left him shaking and his shoulder, which he had forgotten about as he went for his brother, ached to remind him he wasn’t completely healed as he turned back to her. </p>
<p>“Nothing. He knows mother doesn’t have a heart.”</p>
<p>It took her a moment to process his reply, then she gave him a withering look. “Seriously, Bug.”</p>
<p>He managed a weak smile and came back to the bed, although now he was too jittery to slip back under the sheets with her. If it was possible, he hated Rigel that much more, for breaking the mood and preventing him from getting laid this morning. “You okay, baby?”</p>
<p>She nodded, but looked pale as milk and trembled too.</p>
<p>“Good thing you had the idea not to keep the book here,” he complimented, hoping to make her feel better.</p>
<p>She nodded again without a word, and he didn’t like that she was starting to look a little vacant, like the events unfolding in the past several days of her life were catching up to her. He sat down on the mattress beside her and pulled her into a hug. Into her hair he whispered that she’d done well, that she was holding up, they were going to get that half of the book and send Rigel right back to where he belonged.</p>
<p>At least she clutched at him while nodding this time.</p>
<p>Finally he told her to take a hot shower while he ordered breakfast for her, then they’d see about heading over to the fucking Waldorf Astoria for a proper meeting with his younger brother. </p>
<p>Her hands were shaking as she brushed her hair after showering. Once again, this whole crazy adventure had pulled the rug out from under her just as she thought she’d found her footing. For Rigel himself to appear in their room, it had changed the whole tone of their operation, perhaps reminded her once and for all what she was risking. </p>
<p>And then there was the new development with her bizarre dream, as if some part of her had <i>known</i> what was about to happen. What had that been? Pate was finding herself with more questions than answers as she and Beetlejuice took to the street, slipping easily into the flow of foot traffic to walk the two and a half blocks to the hotel where Rigel had apparently taken up residence. </p>
<p>From the moment they left the room he hadn’t stopped touching her: a hand on the small of her back as she led the way into the elevator, his chest pressed to her back as they waited at a crosswalk, his fingers laced with hers as they stopped in front of the imposing tower of glass, soaring hundreds of feet over their heads. She squeezed his hand in hers, unspeakably grateful for his solid, supportive presence. </p>
<p>“Ritzy,” she commented offhandedly. He scoffed darkly beside her. </p>
<p>“Naturally,” he growled. </p>
<p>Giving each other one last long look, Pate and Beetlejuice walked through the heavy glass doors into the lobby.</p>
<p>After last night, he didn't seem able to keep his hands off her. Pate didn't complain, and squeezed his hand occasionally too.</p>
<p>This lobby didn't excite him like the Flamingo had. He let Pate go to the desk and do the talking, while he looked for signs of his half brother, because it would be just like him to have laid an ambush here. Who knew what other lesser demons he'd called up?</p>
<p>But Pate returned to his side and led him to a bank of elevators. She herded him into one with no buttons, only a slot for a key. Without saying anything, she put the key she'd gotten from the clerk into it, gave it a twist, and they started the long ride up to the top floor.</p>
<p>Pate wasn't quite sure what to say or ask the concierge behind the gleaming front desk of black marble. She felt distinctly out of place here, where all around her the décor dripped opulence. Rigel had given them the impression that they'd be expected and sure enough, as soon as she walked to the sleek check in counter the smartly dressed man nodded in greeting and passed her a single bright brass key. </p>
<p>"Mr. Venandi is expecting you," the man said flatly.</p>
<p>She frowned. Something about him seemed . . . off. His voice was so empty, his eyes faintly glazed and he wasn't quite looking at her, more in the general direction of her. Saying nothing, Pate took the key from him and he motioned to the elevators. </p>
<p>Hurrying back to Beetlejuice, she steered him in the direction indicated by the strange concierge. There was a keyhole inside the elevator, so she slid the key in and gave it a turn. Embossed above it was the word "Penthouse".</p>
<p>Being trapped in this box was nothing like riding in the car. In the vehicle he could see outside and Pate played music loudly; this elegant lift was more like a tomb. He'd been in enough of those.</p>
<p>He tried to smile at Pate, but it came across as sickly. He did not let her hand go.</p>
<p>The air of foreboding increased to an actual heaviness in the atmosphere as the elevator neared its destination. There was also an unpleasant underlying scent of roses, and he saw Pate wrinkle her nose.</p>
<p>"Roses herald the dead," he told her simply. "Despite the Armani suits, sometimes Rigel likes to honor the old ways."</p>
<p>Just before the doors slid open, Beetlejuice told her, "I'm going first," in a voice that brooked no disagreement.</p>
<p>The elevator opened directly into the penthouse. Like the rest of the place, it was ornate and opulent and dripping with what was supposed to be sophistication, but it was trying too hard.</p>
<p>"Lawrence!" his younger brother called from across the room, standing in front of the floor to ceiling windows. His voice dropped to a more friendly tone with, "And Pate. Please, come in. Have a drink."</p>
<p>Never taking his eyes off the silhouette, Beetlejuice led the way, keeping tight hold on Pate. Immediately from the corners of the room Dziban flanked them, herding the two of them towards its master.</p>
<p>The cloying, sickly sweet floral smell reminded her of funeral homes and Pate leaned in against Beej's side, her hand gripping his more tightly as she subconsciously wound the other arm through his. He felt like her anchor in this troubling and unfamiliar place, as if she might drift away and be lost forever if he let go. He insisted on entering the penthouse first and she gave him no argument.</p>
<p>In different circumstances, the room might be a nice one. It was like something off of a TV show, it didn't seem real. But Rigel, ironically haloed in bright sunlight at the large windows and Dziban, slinking out of the shadows to drive them like sheep toward the hungry alpha wolf at the other side of the room were horribly real.</p>
<p>Rigel was polite, even gentlemanly when he addressed her and Pate visibly recoiled, hugging Beetlejuice's arm against her chest as if Rigel might try to physically pull her away from the silently stewing demon at her side. He had crossed to a small wrought iron and rich mahogany side table laden with glittering glass decanters, glasses and a bucket of ice. She watched him like a hawk as he casually poured a measure of dark red liquid that might be wine or blood into a glass. Turning to face them, ice cubes clinking faintly as he gently twirled the glass, he raised it to her in a toast.</p>
<p>Rigel's carmine eyes stayed intent upon her as he raised the glass to his lips, and Pate fought not to squirm under his impassive scrutiny. He lowered the glass, a faint reddish tinge on his smiling lips that made it look even more like he'd just been drinking blood, chuckling at the look of revulsion on her face.</p>
<p>"Now that I get a good look at you," he said, setting the glass back on the side table, never taking his eyes off her. "You <i>are</i> a tasty morsel, aren't you?" </p>
<p>The way he said it, soft and inviting, beckoning her as if she were a little lamb he meant to slaughter made her shiver, her blood running cold.</p>
<p>Beetlejuice's arm, which she was still clinging to for dear life, tensed at Rigel's words.</p>
<p>The taller demon must have noticed, because he flashed his brother a wicked sneer. </p>
<p>"I'm afraid your taste in companionship is questionable, my dear," he went on conversationally. "Though in all fairness, you're only human, mistakes are inevitable." </p>
<p>Clasping his arms loosely at his back Rigel paced casually closer, his eyes only for her even as Beetlejuice tugged her a bit further behind him with a warning growl. His forearm felt like spun steel under her fingers. </p>
<p>Rigel stopped short, giving the bristling demon an evaluating look and appearing less than impressed, tilting his head to peer around him and catch Pate's eye again. "If you ever find yourself in want of a <i>higher class</i> of company, do keep me in mind, won't you?"</p>
<p>Was he actually <i>hitting on her?</i> Is that what was happening? </p>
<p>Beetlejuice's silent, steely fury seemed proof enough and he ground out through his teeth, "Let's get this over with."</p>
<p>With an air of disdain, Rigel’s eyes flicked back to his brother’s.</p>
<p>“I was merely making conversation, Lawrence. Complimenting a pretty lady, and offering her alternatives. Humans sometimes don’t realize what’s available to them, do they, or what actually may be on the table?”</p>
<p>It was a dig at the fact it was a well-known secret he wanted nothing more than to hear his name and be summoned to this plane, and had gone to great, sometimes stupid, lengths to make that happen repeatedly. Beetlejuice lowered his head.</p>
<p>“That’s neither here nor there, Rigel,” he said in a low voice.</p>
<p>He took a step forward too, but growls from Dziban on either side of them, and one of the hellhounds slinking forward too, its skinless head low, halted his progress.</p>
<p>“Like I said, let’s get this over with,” he repeated.</p>
<p>Rigel nodded and clapped his hands like a proper host, and turned to pour more three drinks from the same decanter, as he replied, “Of course!”</p>
<p>He handed the drinks all around: the highball glass containing the deep red and viscous fluid to his brother, and a champagne flute filled with bubbly to Pate. The demon tutted at her look of surprise that hers was different than theirs.</p>
<p>“After everything you’ve witnessed and experienced, this little parlor trick astounds you?” he admonished, but sweetly, like he was terribly amused by her. He lifted his glass in a toast. “Here’s to the upper world, and bargains to be made.”</p>
<p>Rigel ignored the hardened stare from his brother and the wide-eyed expression on Pate, and took a sip of his drink with a smile.</p>
<p>“Now. Pate. Let’s talk.”</p>
<p>He looked directly into her eyes and smiled again, showing too many teeth. Even with the bright morning sunlight blazing through the windows, the room took on a darker cast, and Dziban at their sides made a noise more like giggling, like spectral hyenas. Rigel’s voice dropped an octave.</p>
<p>
  <i>“I want the rest of that book.”</i>
</p>
<p>Pate mechanically raised the flute to her lips and gave the golden liquid inside a distrustful sniff. It smelled like real champagne, so she steeled herself and took a sip. It also tasted like the real thing, the carbonation burning pleasantly down her throat, tingling on her tongue and in her nose. She swallowed, feeling the burn go all the way down and tried not to recoil under Rigel's penetrative gaze and predatory smile.</p>
<p>"We have it," she told him truthfully, she and Beetlejuice had agreed at least on that much, that there was no point pretending when he clearly knew it was in their possession. "It's in a safe place, but if we can come to an agreement here we can get it for you." </p>
<p>Rigel smiled and nodded, letting go of his highball glass only for it to float in place as though resting on an invisible table. </p>
<p>"Yes, of course," he went on conversationally. "I wouldn't ask for something for nothing, so what is it I can offer you in exchange?"</p>
<p>"Pretty simple," she said. "Just leave us alone. No more sending Scooby and Scrappy after us, no more showing up out of nowhere. No more--!" She cut herself off, unsure, shooting Beetlejuice a furtive sideways glance. She hadn't mentioned this to him, had been too afraid of what it might mean and what he might say about it. "Whatever you . . . <i>did</i> to me, to my head, the dreams? That stops, too."</p>
<p>Rigel nodded along as she spoke, seemingly agreeing to her terms. </p>
<p>"I can see you've given this due consideration," he said with a smile. "I must confess, it's simpler than I expected! You give me the missing half of the <i>Infernalia</i> and in return, I leave you and my beloved brother Lawrence to your own devices. Very well then, my dear, shall we shake on it?" </p>
<p>He extended his right hand to her, his face suddenly eclipsed in shadow that made his red eyes stand out. Or perhaps they were glowing.</p>
<p>Pate raised her hand from her side, hardly daring to believe she was going through with this, and reached forward to accept his handshake.</p>
<p>"Whoa! Fucking -- <i>no,</i> Pate!" Beetlejuice erupted, body checking her away from Rigel's hand before she had a chance to touch it.</p>
<p>Pate let out a yelp of surprise, staggering from the unexpected attack as Beetlejuice physically interceded between her and his brother. Rigel glowered, his lip curling back to reveal teeth that had become a touch too sharp for a human mouth. </p>
<p>"Beej, what the hell?"</p>
<p>Rigel's snarl made Beetlejuice automatically snarl back, and the air gained mass around him as tentacles nosed through the ether. Dziban's laughter dissolved to open-mouthed growls as well, and the low-frequency thrum of it made the glass in the room vibrate.</p>
<p>With effort, Beetlejuice strong-armed his reaction back down, and his shadow mass faded. He kept an eye on his brother, but spoke to Pate. It would've been better to have some privacy, but that wasn't anything they were going to be afforded.</p>
<p>"Pate, baby--do <i>not</i> touch him. He's a liar and you haven't thought this through--"</p>
<p>Rigel laughed in his face. "Lawrence, please remind the pretty lady that you're a liar too. And it seems to me she's done some fair thinking about this, so don't interrupt. You have no claim over her, no matter how much come you may have pumped into her last night. If anything, you're hers."</p>
<p>The taller demon paused to take a drink, before addressing Pate again directly.</p>
<p>"You, my dear, hold all the cards. Don't let this pathetic excuse of a specter try and tell you what to do. You're beautiful, and more than that, smart. You don't need him trying to mansplain this. You've got it under control."</p>
<p><i>"Pate,"</i> Beetlejuice pleaded, grabbing her hand, "listen to me--"</p>
<p>At Beetlejuice’s urgent words of warning Pate unconsciously tucked her hand against her chest as though Rigel’s baleful gaze had burnt her. She couldn’t help coloring at his not-so-subtle dig at their carnal activity the night before, and his words of flattery were compelling. She had given a great deal of thought at how best to phrase their arrangement, and she couldn’t ignore the things he said about the demon standing beside her, giving her a look of such earnestness that it made her chest clench.</p>
<p>As if reading her uncertainty in her eyes Beetlejuice took her hand in his, entreating with her while Rigel rolled his eyes in disgust at the emotional display. In the insanely short length of time she’d known him, Beetlejuice had never lied to her, not directly at least, and she felt sure that when he had misled her it was more from fear that she’d send him away. He had followed her across the country, protected her from his half brother and the snarling hellhounds that still flanked them.</p>
<p>Even when her mistakes and misjudgments hurt him or caused him pain he hadn’t left. He wouldn’t hurt her, he wouldn’t say or do anything that might do her harm. Pate gave him a small smile and squeezed his hand, turning back to Rigel with a cool look. She didn’t drop Beetlejuice’s hand as she said, </p>
<p>“No, I think he's got a point. There's still a lot to consider, so you might want a pen and paper.”</p>
<p> The taller demon bristled in silence for a beat, sending a positively incendiary glare at his elder brother before composing himself and snapping his fingers, producing a long quill pen made from a jet black feather and a sheaf of parchment. </p>
<p>"Very well, then," he simpered, visibly galled but putting on a convincing show of deference. "Name your terms."</p>
<p>He'd have laughed about this minor triumph over his mother's favorite offspring, but he was still filled with a mixture of anger and fear. He chewed his thumbnail as Pate laid out her terms again, interrupting to add,</p>
<p>"Neutral ground. We're not bringing the book here, where you've possessed the staff."</p>
<p>Rigel scowled at that, even as his quill scratched it onto the parchment. When Pate mentioned taking away her dreams of him again, he smiled broadly while Beetlejuice went back to worrying his nail.</p>
<p>"Now that, beautiful, is something else entirely," Rigel said, in faux sympathy. "My disgraced brother hasn't kept you up to speed, has he? I just told you about him, didn't I? Omissions are still <i>lies."</i></p>
<p>Over their protests, he continued more loudly. "You've read from the book. You've fucked a demon--albeit a poor excuse for one. You're <i>tainted,</i> dearest. Your experiences have stretched your simple human mind, and that worrisome little problem, of bad dreams and foreboding? That's not going away."</p>
<p>Before he could continue, Beetlejuice shook his head. "That's not true, Pate. None of what you're experiencing has to do with that book, or me. Why would I want people to be able to sense me? I'm a bio-exorcist; how could I help get breathers out of a house if they knew about me? It's Rigel's fault--his forcing you to read his name and his trick of crawling out of you left a residue behind."</p>
<p>Pate looked back and forth between the two of them, trying to determine which may be more accurate. The quill hung in the air, waiting.</p>
<p>"Well, dearest?" Rigel asked. "I can understand how this can be confusing. How about this? Either way it's adhered to you, I promise to make it go away. We'll write it in the contract, hmm? I've enough power to grant that boon for you: that you'll not be bothered by pesky premonitions or dreams again. But because it's extra, and a little tricky, I'll need a kiss to seal that part of the deal."</p>
<p>"Absolutely fucking not!" Beetlejuice exploded, his hair flaming red, and this time tentacles did appear fully.</p>
<p>Dziban slipped forward, and he immediately grappled both of it, not even giving the hellhounds a chance to retaliate or even a second thought as he took large steps towards his brother. He'd almost made it to him, too, almost had his hands around the smug bastard's throat, when he felt a tug on his jacket.</p>
<p>Pate.</p>
<p>She was saying something he couldn't hear over the ringing in his ears from the rage coursing through him. The expression on her face, however--pleading, worry, fear--made him pause. She pulled back on him, and he reluctantly went with her, falling back to her side. He didn't release Dziban, strangling it both until Rigel's expression changed from the feral joy of anticipation of a fight to slight pain. Something in that dawned on him, and he released the 'hounds just as they went limp but before he actually crushed the life from them.</p>
<p><i>"You're not touching her,"</i> he said in a low voice.</p>
<p>Rigel waved the whole thing off, as if it was nothing, even as he straightened his jacket by the hem. "F-fine. She'll be plagued, then."</p>
<p>The stutter didn't go unnoticed, and his hunch was right: in calling the Dziban, his brother had somehow bound himself to it. When they were seriously injured, he hurt too. That explained why they disappeared during the attack outside the church.</p>
<p>Beetlejuice nodded. "Finish this contract so we can get the book and be fucking done with you."</p>
<p>It was <i>alarming,</i> seeing him like this: his upswept hair an angry red, the shadowy tentacles erupting from out of thin air to ensnare Dziban even as they moved on him in his blind spots. Beetlejuice paid them no mind, his eyes and his rage were only for his brother. For her, Pate realized. Rigel's suggestion, honestly not the worst he could have made by her estimation, had thoroughly pushed Beetlejuice over the edge.</p>
<p>Things were going to get out of hand. With no thought other than breaking the two apart she hastily stepped forward and caught him by the first thing she could reach; his jacket, and giving it a tug. </p>
<p>"It's okay, Beej," she said when he turned to her, his face still twisted in fury. "We'll just forget about that part, okay?" </p>
<p>Slowly he calmed down, still glaring daggers at Rigel even as the tentacles withdrew and his normal green crept back into his hair. He begrudgingly fell back at her insistence, growling his ultimatum once more at his brother.</p>
<p>The suave and debonair Rigel, now looking more ruffled and peevish than she'd ever seen him, straightened. He deftly rolled up the parchment and clapped it smartly between his hands. The scroll burst at once into blue flames that danced around his right hand, which he once again proffered to her. </p>
<p>"If all parties are satisfied, then?" he prompted. </p>
<p>Pate glanced to Beetlejuice to find him already watching her intently and they shared a long look. The terms had been set: they would choose a place to meet to give Rigel the book, which would buy them time to set their trap. That was all they really needed.</p>
<p>She could live with the strange dreams. Thanks to Beetlejuice's intercession, it felt as secure as a pact with a demon was likely to. So she squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, reached out and grasped Rigel's hand. The blue spectral fire licked up her fingers, over the back of her hand, curling up her wrist, but there was no pain. It felt <i>cold,</i> in fact, causing goosebumps to break out up her arm. </p>
<p>Rigel's grin was too wide, his teeth too sharp and too numerous. "It's a deal."</p>
<p>It was said and done. He didn't like it, and would have much preferred to deal with Rigel on his own, but her safety was important and there was no way he could have guaranteed his half-brother would leave her be otherwise.</p>
<p>He led Pate back out, accidentally on purpose kicking the still weakened Dziban on their way back to the elevator, just to see the taller demon wince a little. On the way back to the ground level, he examined her hand, arm and wrist.</p>
<p>"He's marked you," he told her quietly, running his thumb over the blue figure on the inside of her wrist. He read the infernal language easily, and since it'd been brought to her attention he omitted information sometimes, he explained it quietly to her. "It's his initial, babe. It's not as binding as a kiss, thank gods. It's just so other inhabitants of the Netherworld know that you're his. We'll find a way to get it off."</p>
<p>He didn't like that she'd become slightly withdrawn again, but that was just the after effects of signing a deal with a demon.</p>
<p>He kept a hand on her as he led her outside into the bright sunlight again. Squinting, he took her down the Strip back towards the hotel she'd booked. As they went, a small chapel caught his eye. He elbowed her.</p>
<p>"Pate, baby . . . that church didn't have real holy water, but what do you think about that place? Can't hurt to try, right? And I bet they'd be more than willing to sell it to us, compared to that asshole priest."</p>
<p>And that was how they ended up getting back to their hotel with a gallon of the stuff. Was it real? They didn't know. But just having the plastic jug of it somehow made it feel like they could actually do what needed to be done.</p>
<p>
  <i>tbc . . . </i>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She felt oddly drained as they hustled out of the Waldorf, as if she'd just worked a triple shift and then run a marathon. Maybe it was just a side effect of the brand Rigel had left on her skin. She'd noticed it when he released her hand and the blue fire flickered away to nothing; a small blue sigil to remind her of her contract with him. As they made their way back down the Strip she couldn't stop touching it, rubbing the pad of her thumb over and over it as if in hopes that it would simply wipe off.</p><p>She was so out of it that it took her a long moment to grasp what Beetlejuice was talking about, but sure enough there was a tiny Vegas wedding chapel tucked amongst the large luxury hotels and casinos with a hand painted wooden sign in the window advertising holy water on tap. It was worth a shot!</p><p>Back in their room once again, Pate settled heavily on her bed, wishing she could just curl up there with Beetlejuice and sleep this funk off. But they only had a few hours to accomplish the most important part of their operation: finding the hellmouth. Opening her trusty laptop, Pate set about the task of figuring out where they ought to go first to find one. Beetlejuice sat wordlessly on the bed behind her and she happily reclined back against him as she tapped away on the keyboard.</p><p>Scrolling endlessly, she began to feel that sensation again: a vice-like pressure, unmistakable but not painful, squeezing her ribcage. Her finger still on the keys, eyes scanning the screen for a clue where the feeling was coming from. Pate almost laughed out loud when she saw it. It was just too perfect. </p><p>"Valley of Fire State Park," she read, turning her head against Beej's chest to meet his eyes. "That's where <i>I'd</i> be if <i>I</i> were a hellmouth."</p><p>It was pleasant to have her resting against him, but he couldn't rid himself of the feeling of foreboding he'd had since meeting with his brother. It was a rock in his gut.</p><p>When Pate laughed, it perked  him up a bit; she hadn't sounded like her normal self since the penthouse. He rested his chin on her shoulder and looked at the screen of her laptop.</p><p>"Yeah," he agreed. "Let's get out there and see if we can find that ugly thing."</p><p>Should he tell her they were on time schedule? It was standard for any infernal contract like the one she'd signed; a set amount of time for the breather to uphold their end of the bargain. It was rarely brought to the attention of the person foolish enough to enter a contract; as Rigel so kindly pointed out and used to his advantage, omissions were lies too. Failure to complete the task would result in automatic forfeit.</p><p>He decided against telling her; it'd only increase her worry. He'd simply do his best to hurry her along.</p><p>With a press of a kiss against her temple, he grinned. "Let's go, baby."</p><p>With their gallon jug of <i>purportedly</i> holy water in the back seat, Pate and Beej retrieved her car from the parking garage and set off on the drive to the Valley of Fire. It would take a little less than an hour, but that was just to get there. They still had to try and locate a hellmouth somewhere in the park, and Pate was feeling apprehensive about that particular prospect. Sure, she'd had one of her weird new <i>feelings</i> to even consider going to the Valley at all, but once there how was she going to find it?</p><p>Though she couldn't pinpoint the source of the worry, it felt as if there were a clock hovering over her, counting down to some inescapable fate if the plan failed. Doing her best to ignore the growing sense of dread, she drove them through the choked city streets and out into the open road again, setting her cruise control and leaning back in her seat with a sigh while fiddling with the radio or the AC, unable to keep her fingers still.</p><p>Beetlejuice had been rather quiet since they left the Waldorf, and every now and then she'd glance over to find him watching her with a troubled expression. He was doing it now, she saw, though he tried to smile before she noticed although it didn't quite reach his eyes. Returning the awkward gesture, Pate reached across the center console and caught his hand, lacing their fingers together. </p><p>"It's gonna work," she said, hoping she sounded more assured than she felt. "We'll <i>make</i> it work."</p><p>The desert could've been modeled after goddamn Saturn. Beetlejuice half expected to feel the ground to rumble under his feet and a Sandworm to erupt out of it. He'd taken that ride before and had absolutely no desire to do it again, so he stepped cautiously as he followed Pate wandering aimlessly.</p><p>The sun blazing down warmed him but he worried about Pate; breathers were much more sensitive to the heat. He was going to make her drink that supposed holy water if they kept going much further.</p><p>But before it came to that, Pate stopped abruptly. He watched her look around, and put one hand on the ground, then crawl to another spot and dig a little into the dirt.</p><p>He was about to ask her what the hell she was doing, when that dreaded rumble came from underground. He backpedaled away from her, even as she stayed right where she was.</p><p>Panicked, he told her to get back--<i>get back--!</i></p><p>The Valley of Fire was appropriately named: it was hot, scorching under the midday sun while all around them formations of red sandstone rose up from the dry and barren ground like monolithic abstract sculptures. Pate wasn't quite sure just what she was doing out here; in the desert, with a <i>demon,</i> looking for a passageway to hell. She still felt this odd certainty that they were in the right place, but she didn't know <i>how</i> she knew. It was as though she were being drawn in by an invisible magnet, her feet carrying her forward even while her brain hadn't a clue.</p><p>She gasped quietly and came to a sudden halt when she felt it again, the pressure squeezing her chest; something was nearby, something large and ancient and sleeping very, very deeply. Pate could almost imagine that the ground under her feet were rising and falling in time with its deep breaths. Her eyes scanned the ground, as though she'd be able to see it moving. Kneeling, she laid one hand flat against the sun-warmed ground. Through the lingering heat it had absorbed all day long she felt something else; a long, low thrum, like a guitar string vibrating after being plucked. </p><p>Still squatting, Pate awkwardly shuffled forward, her hand never losing contact with the rock and sand, following the vibration to what she determined to be the source.</p><p>Aware of Beetlejuice watching closely, she dug into the hot, hard earth with her hands. She wasn't completely sure why she was doing it, but it <i>felt</i> like the thing to do. Before she had time to start feeling foolish, kneeling on the ground in the desert and digging a hole by hand, the ground began to tremble and she went still, hearing Beetlejuice gasp in alarm behind her and shout for her to move away.</p><p>She nearly fell over as she struggled to her feet, but he was there, catching her under the arms and all but dragging her backward as the ground where she had been kneeling began to visibly shake. Rocks and pebbles rattled as pointed spikes the color of bone began to sprout in a large oval, like strange flowers. It soon became clear that they weren't rocks, they were teeth. It was the hellmouth, emerging from the desert, pushing its way to the surface. Pate and Beetlejuice stood frozen in a combination of amazement and horror as it all finally went still.</p><p>The creature was gigantic, like something from prehistoric times in scale. She could lay flat on her back on its tongue with her arms spread to either side and her fingertips would just reach to the roots of its teeth. Vaguely draconic, with dull grayish scales and boar-like tusks that curled up over its snout in vicious points, the hellmouth simply gaped, its eyes open but unfocussed and vacant. Pate let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, turning to face Beetlejuice. </p><p>"All we need now is the book and your brother," she told him.</p><p>They were standing in a desert, but he suddenly felt cold. </p><p>"Jesus," Beetlejuice swore, looking over the creature Pate had somehow pulled from underground. "That thing is something only its mother would love. Or my mother . . ." </p><p>Pate seemed fascinated by it, walking around it to see it from all angles. It seemed dormant, with glassy eyes and staying still as death, but Beetlejuice didn't miss the fact that one of its eyes sluggishly tracked her, while the other remained fixated on him. He wasn't sure if it was pretending to be immobile, and he didn't like it. </p><p>"Pate, baby, don't get too close to it," he advised, even as he couldn't understand why someone would want to get close to it in the first place. He'd prefer to keep his distance, but when she made the poor decision to reach a hand out near one of its eyes, he hurried forward and grabbed her, ordering, "Don't <i>touch</i> it!" </p><p>Its eye followed them, but it didn't move. </p><p>"Pate, don't . . . wake it up more, or whatever," he said, holding her tight by her upper arm and keeping half an eye on the thing. "We want to be hungry for <i>Rigel,</i> and if it gets you . . ." </p><p>She murmured something about thinking it was more like a barnacle waiting for something to drift by than an active hunter, but he knew she was only guessing that theory. </p><p>He took her other arm so she faced him. "Listen. We're running out of time." Her brow furrowed, and he kissed her in lieu of an explanation. "I'm going to go get the book. You wait here. Do not go near that thing. When I'm back, you call my come stain of a brother, and we'll get rid of him. Okay?" </p><p>He kissed her again, making his lips linger on hers for longer than he probably should have, hating that maybe this was going to be the last time they'd be able to kiss. </p><p>Breaking away, he stepped through the ether to his place in the Netherworld to retrieve the half of the book Rigel was so desperate to lay his hands on. </p><p>Pate stood alone in the desert, watching the air where Beetlejuice had disappeared. Well, she thought, maybe not completely alone . . . </p><p>She cast the yawning maw of the goliath hell-beast a nervous glance. When it first emerged and then became totally motionless, she'd assumed it was an indolent predator like the fish who burrowed in sand and just waited for hapless prey to stray too close. Beetlejuice's distrust of it was obvious and much more acute than hers, but now that she was on her own with it, it was definitely looking at her with it's huge round walleye. </p><p>Shuddering she turned away and busied herself with the jug of holy water. It was hard to believe that what looked like a jug labeled "Potable Water" that seemed to have originated in a chain mega-store that they had bought second hand from an ordained Bob Ross impersonator could possibly contain the real thing where the bottle from an actual church had not, but time was running out and so were their options. </p><p>Experimentally she opened the cap and sniffed it, tapping her finger to the damp underside and touching it to her tongue. It was salty. Not sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing she replaced the cap and set the jug on the ground at her feet, waiting for Beetlejuice. </p><p>Pate absently brushed her thumb over the blue sigil printed on her skin, breaking off scanning the horizon to look down at it. A chill settled over her at the sight of the Mark. This had to work. It had to!</p><p>He slipped through the back alleys of the Netherworld to his own private place. Rigel would shit himself if he knew the book had been secreted here! Luckily sometimes his mother's favorite had his head too far up his own ass to think about simple solutions like that. </p><p>Time passed differently here than in the upper world, and when he finally made it back to Pate's side, he wasn't completely sure how much time there was left. He handed her the book, gave her wrist a reassuring squeeze, and nodded. At least it wasn't the middle of the night, like a horror movie. They'd face Rigel during the hot dry day.</p><p>
  <i>tbc . . .</i>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was time.</p>
<p>Pate carefully took the traumatized remnants of Fuchs's book from Beetlejuice. She had replaced all the loose leaves in order as best she could and secured it all with a belt to keep it together. Tucking it under her arm, her other hand wrapped in his, she looked up at him and he nodded once. She returned the gesture and took a deep breath, fighting down the terror trying to twist her insides into knots. </p>
<p>As Rigel had instructed, handing her a sleek black business card printed with elegant script embossed in metallic blue, she recited his name three times aloud: <i>"Rijl Jauzah al Yusrā, Rijl Jauzah al Yusrā, Rijl Jauzah al Yusrā."</i></p>
<p> In a flash he was there, squinting for a moment against the glaring sunlight, looking appraisingly at their surroundings. </p>
<p>"Well, " he drawled. "I suppose it doesn't get much more neutral than this." </p>
<p>His eyes widened when they landed on the hellmouth, inert and gaping open at the sky, turning to fix her with a curious expression. </p>
<p>"You've been busy, I see," he went on glibly. "I can't say I know what you plan to do with <i>that</i> thing, but I <i>can</i> see that you have something for me." </p>
<p>His gaze fixed on the book under her arm, a greedy smile splitting his face as he traced his tongue over the top row of his teeth. "And before you get any clever ideas about saying my name three more times to banish me, I ought to inform you that <i>that</i> little trick won't work on me. It's a very special condition reserved only for my dear older brother. From mommy, with love, isn't that so, Lawrence?" </p>
<p>Rigel flashed Beetlejuice a wicked smirk and winked knowingly.</p>
<p>He knew Pate had to hand the book over personally, but that didn't mean she had to do it alone. Beetlejuice stayed right by her side as she took a step closer, and watched a hint of a scowl twist his brother's lips. </p>
<p>"This exchange has nothing to do with you, Lawrence," Rigel said, his eyes flicking away from the book in Pate's hands for a moment to meet his. "You'll get your chance to carry her off to whatever love nest you think is appropriate for a demon and a breather to fuck in." </p>
<p>That didn't dissuade him. He kept pace with Pate and didn't drop his eyes from his brother. Just before they were in arm's reach, Rigel, who'd been looking more and more eager the closer his prize came, pulled his hands back. </p>
<p>"What is that?" he demanded, nodding towards the jug she carried cradled in her arm. </p>
<p>"Water," she replied, but her voice was shaky and Beetlejuice broke in before she could expound. </p>
<p>"You're so fucking out of touch, Rigel," he said disdainfully. "This is a fucking <i>desert.</i> It's called heat stroke. She needs water. Don't you even know basic shit about people?" </p>
<p>It was on his face that he wanted to spit back that he didn't care about breathers, but Pate quickly walked into his personal space and shoved the half book into his hands before he could argue. </p>
<p>"There!" she said. "Now leave me alone!" </p>
<p>He didn't take up any more physical space, but Rigel seemed to expand in triumph as he clutched the book. He grinned, showing too many teeth that suddenly, were more shark-like than before. </p>
<p>"Oh, you beautiful, stupid breather," he breathed out in a voice that cusped orgasmic. "Are you sure about not giving me that kiss? You could have a real demon, and not some disgraced hack--" </p>
<p>"No!" </p>
<p>He shrugged a shoulder under its tailored suit. "Very well. You're free to go. But my sweet brother . . . he was never part of the deal." </p>
<p>With a soft snap of his fingers, Dziban appeared out of the ether and threw themselves on Beetlejuice.</p>
<p>Pate barely had time to gasp aloud before the skeletal hellhounds materialized out of nothingness and launched itself at Beetlejuice. He flung out his arm and shoved her roughly aside and out of harm's way. She stumbled and lost her balance, dropping the jug as both hands went out to catch herself as the by-now-familiar tentacles of shadow burst forth from him to meet the hellhounds, twisting and twining around their bodies while the sagging jaws snapped and the clawed paws scrabbled for flesh to rend. </p>
<p>Rigel was laughing at the spectacle but not even watching, more intent upon the book in his hands as he paged through it. Her heart was hammering, watching Beetlejuice hold off the monstrous hounds that were yipping and tittering in high pitched cries in between growls and snarls. Her eyes snapped to the fallen jug lying on its side in the dirt. Scrambling to get her feet under her, she snatched it up and twisted off the cap. She had to be careful with how much she used, they still had to have enough to kill the hellmouth, assuming it was real holy water. Pate pressed her lips hard together. Time to find out.</p>
<p>Stepping as close as she dared, she swung the open jug in an arc, sending an airborne stream of the water sloshing from the mouth before she righted it to prevent anymore being poured out. The liquid hit all three of them, and while Beetlejuice remained unfazed by the impromptu baptism, Dziban both let out ear-splitting wails. Their skin was sizzling where the water had made contact, leaving striped burns across their bodies as they whined and whimpered and struggled to get away. </p>
<p>A surprised and much more human cry of pain emanated from Rigel, who had gasped as though he too had been burned. He turned angry eyes on her, his formerly handsome face beginning to shift and change. </p>
<p><i>"You little fucking bitch!"</i> he seethed through pointed teeth, stalking towards her, while Pate withdrew with growing horror as he continued to metamorphose. </p>
<p>His frame lengthened, a second pair of arms sprouted from his sides, clawed hands ready to tear her. His face elongated, flattened, one round staring eye in the center of his forehead, a forked tongue snaking out from his mouth of jagged teeth. Horns grew from his crown, four of them, a ball of blue spectral fire flickering between them. Her mouth was dry, there was no air in her lungs to scream, her heart was pelting against her ribs as he bore down on her.</p>
<p>Dziban managed to wrench his shoulder, but he thought it'd been more luck then a deliberate move. He'd have done okay against them--he thought--but it was still excellent timing on Pate's part to try the holy water. It left him damp and shouldn't have burned baby brother, but when Rigel reacted as strongly as the hellhounds had, it confirmed his thought they'd been bound. </p>
<p>And now Rigel was going hardass demon mode. Beetlejuice had half a mind to just let him touch her, just let him lay one taloned finger on Pate since he'd apparently forgotten the written contract to not harm her. That'd show him! He'd be torn away, back into the Netherworld to stand for a Tribunal, and what he wouldn't give to have front row seats to <i>that!</i> </p>
<p>But any touch would poison and harm her, and Rigel had enough tricks up his sleeve that even overtly disobeying the conditions of the contract didn't necessarily mean he'd suffer for it. The only one who would would be Pate, and he wasn't going to watch her get attacked by a demon in this fucking desert. </p>
<p>He rushed his brother, shouting "Don't use the holy water directly on him!" in case she thought Rigel's reaction meant he could be directly injured by it. </p>
<p>Pate didn't answer, or if she did he didn't hear it because he immediately grappled his younger sibling, wrapping him up in shadow mass and tentacles and dragging him backward, away from her. </p>
<p>Rigel screamed, an inhuman sound that echoed from the rocks. He twisted in the grip he was held to face him, grinning ferally in Beetlejuice's face. </p>
<p>"I've missed this," he hissed, and his tongue lapped intimately at his chin. Beetlejuice reached up through the mass of tentacles and grabbed Rigel's horns, yanking his head to one side. He miscalculated, though, and that put Rigel's mouth near his injured shoulder. </p>
<p>Rigel immediately bit him, just as Dziban had, and he shrieked as new venom was pumped into it. He refused to loosen his hold, and dragged them away from her.</p>
<p>A wordless cry of distress left her when Rigel sank his new pointed rows of teeth into Beetlejuice's already injured shoulder, his scream gouging at her heart as though she'd been stabbed. The two of them continued to struggle, tentacles versus the long slender arms tipped with pointed claws. </p>
<p>Dziban, their scorched skin still bubbling and smoking, padded in a wide circle around the fighting demons as though looking for an opening. Gritting her teeth, Pate poured more of the water into her cupped palm and flung it at the nearest one, just barely grazing its forelimb. </p>
<p>“Don't even <i>think</i> about it!" she bit out angrily.</p>
<p>It was difficult to see everything at once, with pain threatening to take over. From the corners of his eyes he could see Dziban circling, and Pate yelling something. </p>
<p>"Stay back!" he ordered, mostly for her, but maybe it would give Dziban some pause too? No such luck. Whatever she did, however, made Rigel flinch, and that gave him just enough room to get several tentacles between his shoulder and his brother's sharp-toothed maw. Several more appendages attempted to wrap Rigel's head, but he snapped at them and if they were too slow and were caught in his jaws, he broke them off and spit them out to the desert floor. </p>
<p>Like an intimate kiss, Rigel's voice brushed his ear. </p>
<p>"I might not be able to touch her, brother," he whispered, "but that doesn't mean I can't have others take her. I'm going to watch them ruin her, and jerk off over her while she's getting fucked by demons. My come splattered all over her pretty face doesn't count as touching her." His voice took on a mused quality. "I bet Mom would like a go at her too--" </p>
<p>Enraged, Beetlejuice found a burst of strength. Using every ounce of shadow mass available to him, he bodily hefted Rigel up and off the ground, and with a roar, threw him at the open jaws of the hellmouth-- </p>
<p>--something hit the backs of his knees and he stumbled-- </p>
<p>--no no no no no-- </p>
<p>--he <i>stumbled--</i> </p>
<p>--he flailed for purchase, losing his grip on Rigel-- </p>
<p>--there was nothing to hold, and he fell right where he'd meant to deposit his brother, right where he and Pate had planned so carefully-- </p>
<p>
  <i>--right into the awaiting hellmouth.</i>
</p>
<p>No, no! Her tactic of keeping Dziban corralled by threatening them with holy water seemed to be working, until one of the snarling demon dogs knocked into Beetlejuice as he hoisted Rigel off the ground, throwing him off balance. Her heart skipped a beat, cold terror freezing the blood in her veins as her mind filled with white noise, watching almost in slow motion as the two demons fell forward into the waiting maw of the <i>ors infernum.</i> The listless eyes of the creature were suddenly wide open, intent and aware as a reddish glow flared to life at the back of its mouth, like a bonfire were burning in its throat, the air filled with the scent of sulfur. </p>
<p>Rigel recovered first, rising on his four legs while he reached down with his quartet of clawed hands to pin Beetlejuice on the monster's tongue. </p>
<p>"Oh, so <i>that</i> was your play, big brother? This is a portal, isn't it? Your clever little bedwarmer must've stumbled across this beastie in the book, is that it?" He laughed, all four of his mouths, on each side of his head laughed while two of the four eyes that accompanied them flicked to her. "I rather like this idea! I think I'll steal it!" </p>
<p>He fell and rolled, and landed on the wide tongue of this beast Pate had called--this was going tits' up, he needed to get Rigel down its throat, but his younger brother had leverage on his side. In this sulphur laced, red tinted mouth, he could not get purchase on the spit-coated tongue, so try as he might to push himself up, it just didn't work.</p>
<p>Rigel was laughing, crowing his triumph and doing exactly what they had planned; he turned the tables on them and was winning. Despite struggling wildly, Beetlejuice felt himself slipping, being forced further into the hellmouth's maw. If Dziban jumped in, there was no way for him to counter, and he was headed straight for the Netherworld--</p>
<p>Pate's breath was frozen in her lungs. She couldn't think, couldn't move. It was all going wrong and now Rigel was going to throw Beetlejuice into Hell. Grief and anguish crushed her insides at the thought of him, trapped, of never seeing him again, never hearing him laugh or seeing him smile, never feeling his arms around her again. All at once she felt it again: the portentous pressure squeezing her heart, guiding her.</p>
<p>She raised the jug of holy water and tipped it over her head, closing her eyes as the salty liquid gushed over her head and shoulders, down her front. Dropping it carelessly, she broke out into a dead sprint, arms pumping at her sides. Rigel wasn't looking at her, he had turned all his eyes and attention to his brother, who was grasping at the restraining arms, trying to push him off. </p>
<p>Pate didn't make a sound other than her footfalls on the hot, dry earth, before hurling herself like a human battering ram into the tall, lanky demon's back and pitching him forward over his own feet. Rigel made a choked off sound as though she'd knocked the wind out of him, and Beetlejuice had the presence of mind to roll away from the hellmouth's teeth as she and Rigel both landed heavily in a tangle of limbs at the back of its tongue. </p>
<p>Out of nowhere, Rigel was slammed off him. Automatically he rolled to get  out of the way, luckily he rolled to the front of the beast, past its teeth. A deeper rumble shook the ground; the hellmouth hadn't moved when previously, but something made it quake now--</p>
<p>On all fours, Beetlejuice looked back into the mouth. Pate was there--<i>Pate</i> was there?! Rigel looked stunned but had traded wrapping his arms around Beetlejuice to her, and even as he pushed himself back to his feet to get right back in the thick of things, shrieking her name, the hellmouth slammed shut. </p>
<p>The holy water soaked into her hair and clothing had transferred to Rigel's suit, pooling underneath them on the hellmouth's tongue, dripping down toward the reddish glow beyond its uvula. There was a sound from deep in its gullet, a gagging noise. </p>
<p>She had just enough time to look backwards and meet Beetlejuice's wide, stunned eyes before the jaw snapped closed, engulfing her in blackness.</p>
<p>His shriek devolved into a wordless howl and despite his revulsion of the thing, he immediately used all his strength and mass to pry the jaws of the hellmouth open. It was a herculean task, and only after straining and swearing was he was only able to get it opened a small amount, nothing like the wide-mouthed maw it'd displayed before. The rumbles also continued, but he planted himself as steady as he could to counter the shifting ground.</p>
<p>Rigel and Pate were no longer in the mouth. The reddish glow at the back of its throat pulsed.</p>
<p>Beetlejuice screamed again, calling for her, and had his own struggle not to be crushed by the jaws that wanted to close.</p>
<p>
  <i>tbc . . .</i>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rigel had her by a fistful of hair, dragging her over the saliva-slick floor that felt spongy enough to be the hellmouth's throat but was also perfectly level like a hallway. Pate gripped his wrist in both hands, tears welling in her eyes as she tried to keep her weight supported by her arms instead of her scalp. </p>
<p>He was seething, hissing to himself in a foul language that hurt her ears and she couldn't comprehend, not that it was hard to guess what he was saying. They were moving towards a reddish-orange glow, emerging into a massive corridor that seemed carved from stone and lit with flickering torches mounted to brackets on the walls.</p>
<p>"Where in the <i>fuck</i> have you sent me?!" he snarled, snatching her up onto her knees and shaking her. </p>
<p>Pate winced, feeling several clumps of hair part company with her head as she blinked away the tears, getting a look around. The hallway was short, but the ceiling might be miles above them, swathed in shadow. Set in either side of the wall were huge apertures, and inside each of them were skulls. Bigger than any dinosaur skull she'd ever seen in any museum, and many times more monstrous. After a moment it occurred to her what they were: the remains of other dead hellmouths.</p>
<p>At the far end of the stone hall of skulls was a simple door. Without a word to her Rigel set off for it at a quick, irate pace, still hauling her along behind him by his fist twisted into her hair. But at least now she'd managed to get her feet under her and was able to more or less keep up with him. </p>
<p>When they reached the door it was locked. Bellowing in rage Rigel drew back and kicked it, leading the way to another hallway very different from the one they'd just left. Other than the very dim and oddly cool bluish-green lighting and the bizarre black and white tiled floors, it looked just like any hallway in an office building. There was a man in grim gray overalls, pushing a mop and bucket, who was startled by their sudden appearance. HIs face was wan, his eyes surrounded by deep purplish bruises. She didn't know how she knew, but Pate knew him to be dead. </p>
<p>"Well there's something new," he mumbled drily, mostly to himself.</p>
<p>Resuming a semi-human form, only two arms and legs apiece, Rigel composed himself and addressed the man, </p>
<p>"Where is this, exactly? I've never been to this level." </p>
<p>The spectral janitor chuckled humorlessly. </p>
<p>"This is the very bottom floor, sonny," he said. "Nobody's used the hellmouths in centuries, most of 'em are long dead. But if you head down this hall you'll find the Purgatory check-in desk." </p>
<p>He resumed his task, and Rigel set off in the direction he'd indicated, still dragging Pate behind him.</p>
<p>⁂</p>
<p>The effort of keeping the jaws pried open as he screamed himself hoarse calling for Pate took up most of his concentration. He had half a mind to throw himself down the hellmouth's gullet too, but he didn't know if it would help or not.</p>
<p>There was still a waxing and waning reddish glow from the back of the beast's mouth. What did that mean? The deep tremors didn't seem healthy. It had swallowed the two of them, and he didn't know if they were being digested or falling like Alice down a rabbit hole.</p>
<p>Beetlejuice wailed his frustration.</p>
<p>Then, out of the blue, something tackled him from behind. It did little more than make him go to his hands, forward onto the tip of the hellmouth's tongue, and gave him the unexpected advantage of wedging him between two teeth.</p>
<p>With a snarl even through the renewed pain of Dziban going after his weakened shoulder, Beetlejuice devoted several tentacles to wrapping around the hellhound. It gave the hellmouth the opportunity to close several inches, but he didn't care. He took his rage out on one of it, ignoring the screeches and struggles of the minor demon as it realized this wasn't a fight it was going to win. He crushed and choked it until it grew limp against him, then he flung it away disdainfully.  He threw a quick glance over his shoulder, waiting for the second.</p>
<p>It came rushing at him; he tried to twist to intercept it, but instead of attacking it slipped between the parted lips and teeth of the hellmouth and threw itself down the throat, after its master.</p>
<p>He wondered if he just let the hellmouth snap shut if it would sever him in two. Would his torso end up in the Netherworld and his legs stay in the upper world? His strength was fading.</p>
<p>⁂</p>
<p>Halfway down the hall Rigel had come to an abrupt stop, gasping as if in pain, letting go of her hair at long last to claw at his own throat as if he couldn't breathe. Pate, surprised to find herself free, dropped to all fours and attempted to crawl away, to get to her feet, to run, but before she got far his hand closed on the neck of her shirt and hauled her back, dragging her. </p>
<p>"Fucking <i>Lawrence!"</i> Rigel rasped, sounding as though he'd been choked. "Not like it matters. He can kill the hounds for all I care, <i>I've got his prize."</i></p>
<p>When they reached the end of the hall Pate saw that there was a Plexiglass-looking window with a cutout and a speaker, like something at a pharmacy or a bank, and a set of double doors. Rigel slung her forward and she slid across the tiles, letting out an "oof!" when her back met the wall while he sauntered up to the counter and tapped the glass. </p>
<p>Leaning forward, Pate could see the window slide open and a face appeared. She gasped. It was a man with a pale, bluish complexion like the janitor, dark bruises in his eye sockets. And a grisly wound, like a gunshot, splattered across much of one side of his face. </p>
<p>"Name?" he asked in a bored voice. Rigel, looking largely human again except for the horns and the blue white fireball floating between them, flashed a winning grin. </p>
<p>"I think we can dispense with that," he said. "Why don't you just put in a call to Juno's office, let her know Rigel is downstairs and looking to come up?" </p>
<p>The man scoffed. </p>
<p>"I can't just call her, sir," he replied blandly. "I'm gonna need you to fill out these forms." </p>
<p>He slid a clipboard through the window, which Rigel eyed with smoldering fury. </p>
<p>
  <i>"Little man, if you don't open these doors right now and let me the fuck in --! "</i>
</p>
<p>Pate, still seated on the floor with her back to the wall, squinted down the hallway, saw something moving. Running, really. Pelting at terrific speed on four long, skeletal legs.</p>
<p>Cowed, or else just bored enough not to care, the dead receptionist buzzed them in. The double doors slid open, revealing an antique grate elevator. Beyond the metal lattice-work, Pate could only gape in horror at what could only be described as Hell. A sky (or a ceiling?) the color of blood, washing everything in sickly scarlet light; spurts of flame that belched at random from a barren, parched ground; the jagged peaks of distant mountains visible in the distance like the savage teeth of some monster. </p>
<p>Rigel saw the fear on her face and chuckled cruelly. </p>
<p>"What's wrong, my dear? Don't like the look of your new home?" </p>
<p>He seized the neck of her shirt again as he stepped toward the elevator, but he didn't notice the hellhound running up behind him. </p>
<p>Pate squeezed her eyes shut, waiting to feel its teeth, but instead she felt a rush of air and a glancing blow, followed by a sharp tug on her shirt which promptly tore as Dziban launched itself at Rigel, shoving him into the elevator like an overexcited dog greeting its master. </p>
<p>"Get <i>off</i> me, you fucking beast!" Rigel snarled, pushing at the hellhound with his extra limbs. </p>
<p>Wasting no more time Pate scrambled to her feet and ran, ran like the devil himself was at her heels. </p>
<p>"Don't just stand there!" she heard Rigel bellow. <i>"Kill the bitch!"</i></p>
<p>Not caring that her shirt was torn nearly all the way down the back or that she seemed to be bleeding from somewhere under her hairline, Pate ran harder than she ever had in her life. It was a straight shot, back down the dim hall with its black and white tiles to the door Rigel had kicked open. She passed the dead janitor again who blinked at her, bemused, watching as she backpedaled frantically and ducked through the splintered door. </p>
<p>"Kid!" he called after her. "Hey, kid! You don't wanna do that! The hellmouth's dying! If it goes before you make it through you'll be stuck halfway!" </p>
<p>But she kept on. At the end of the stone corridor with the ceiling she couldn't see, there it was: the hellmouth. Some sort of vital fluid was leaking from its nostrils, it's sagging eyes, out of it's half closed mouth. Without slowing, she bent forward and rushed in.</p>
<p>It was dark in the hellmouth's throat. She hadn't really paid attention before. It was horribly humid from the beast's foul, acrid breath and Pate began to find it difficult to breathe. She was still going as hard as she could, but her limbs were growing heavy, her movements sluggish. She had no idea if Dziban was still chasing her. Her feet skidded on the slick, squishy floor and she let out a cry of alarm, overbalancing and falling flat on her stomach. </p>
<p>The janitor had warned her that she'd be trapped if the hellmouth died before she made it back to the living world, she had to get up, <i>she had to get up!</i></p>
<p>A gentle hand took hers, the other taking her under the elbow and pulling her to her feet. Pate blinked, wondering if she was seeing things. </p>
<p><i>"Beej?!"</i> </p>
<p>It wasn't him, though it looked a lot like him. It must be one of the clones, like he'd made when Rigel first appeared in her bathroom so long ago. The clone smiled, then glared over her shoulder. Something behind her was growling, rapid footfalls in the wet floor coming closer. He tugged her forward, gave her back a shove and charged back down the hellmouth's throat to intercept Dziban. </p>
<p>Pate kept running, slipping every now and then, as another clone ran past her, and then another, the hellhound snarling and shrieking and growling all the while.</p>
<p>There was something ahead: a bright, jagged crescent of brilliant light, the exit! It hadn't closed! She could see him, oh God, <i>he was there,</i> silhouetted at the mouth! A hysterical, joyful, relieved laugh left her breathless lungs as she pelted for the light. </p>
<p>"Beej!"</p>
<p>⁂</p>
<p>Sagging against the increasing pressure from above and below him, Beetlejuice was on the verge of giving up, giving in to the hopelessness of the situation. The hellmouth’s tremors had increased, and deep, pained moans filled the air; he was going to have to make a decision to go in or get out, and soon.</p>
<p>He pushed against the upper jaw. It didn’t budge. Exhausted and alone, his tentacles slowly relaxing, he thought it would be okay if this was the end. They’d stopped Rigel. <i>Pate</i> had stopped Rigel, and now she was gone, and it would be okay to be gone too.</p>
<p>But from somewhere deep in the beast’s throat, a sound echoed up. It wasn’t the endless death rattle of the hellmouth; it had the faint, rhythmic sound of  . . . footsteps? Scrambling, desperate footsteps? He strained to hear more over the dying hellmouth’s lament, and deeper, there was a new sound: snarls and growls and the horrible twittering laughter of Dziban.</p>
<p>Without a second thought, he sent clone after clone straight down the hellmouth’s throat. Maybe it was only Dziban clawing its way back up the throat to finish him off, but maybe the ‘hound had different quarry . . .</p>
<p>He waited, holding non-existent breath, for an eternity of moments. Then, from deep inside, he heard a faint, “Beej?”</p>
<p>He almost screamed in joy. “Pate! PATE!”</p>
<p>After another few seconds of straining, he could just barely see her in the reddish glow of the hellmouth’s throat. There was a clone with her, but as the shrieking from Dziban increased, the clone gave her a push and retreated back further into the gloom to help hold off the minor demon. Pate scrambled on the slick, undulating surface of the dying hellmouth’s throat, and he continued to yell for her.</p>
<p>On her hands and knees, grabbing fistfuls of flesh to help pull herself along, she made it to the back of the hellmouth’s tongue. Beetlejuice couldn’t force the jaws open any wider, but he let two tentacles give up trying to hold it open to reach for her. The reduced counter against the hellmouth allowed it to close another few inches.</p>
<p>“Hurry Pate!” he wheezed, as the tentacles wrapped around her wrists and forearms. She was hard to hold, covered in slime.</p>
<p>Danger below threatening to tear them apart and danger above threatening to trap them, he risked losing what little leverage he had by straining further into the beast’s mouth. One more tentacle trying to reach her wasn’t going to make the difference, right? He sent one last one off the hellmouth’s hard palate to her, flexing <i>hard,</i> just able to reach under her arm to wrap around her back to the opposite shoulder.</p>
<p>With extreme effort, he dragged her upward and forward. She helped too, pushing off and scrabbling, and with the cries of the fight against Dziban still echoing behind her and the underlying moan of the hellmouth, he pulled her to him, grasping her hands with his own.</p>
<p>One last bit of twisting, and Beetlejuice pushed himself backwards out from between the teeth, Pate held tightly to his chest, back into the Nevada desert.</p>
<p>Released, the hellmouth finally snapped shut again. He lost some tentacles that weren’t fast enough to get out from between the teeth. His clones were still down in that maw. All that was nothing. Nothing. Rigel was gone. Dziban was gone. Pate was with him. They were free.</p>
<p>A blast of air wafted over them as the hellmouth’s jaw snapped shut one final time, hot and oppressive and smelling of decay and burnt flesh. Pate pressed her face into Beetlejuice’s chest, burying herself in the scent of <i>him;</i> dried funerary flowers and damp soil, dead leaves and a faintly musty smell like old paper. She was vaguely aware of her arms trembling where they were wound tight around his middle, under his jacket, her hands gripping the back of his dress shirt.</p>
<p>The rumbling ground beneath them went still, the hellmouth’s death throes went quiet and she finally let out the breath she’d been holding in a long, shaky whoosh against his sternum. Only then did she stir against him, prying herself just far enough away to look Beetlejuice over. </p>
<p>His tentacles were still wrapped around her, as were his arms, as though he were afraid if he let go she would slip out of his grasp. Several of them, she noted, were curled close to his body, their ends shorn by the hellmouth’s teeth. The shoulder of his jacket was ripped and bloodied again from Rigel’s dirty fighting, and there was hellmouth saliva dripping from his hair, down one cheek, splattered on his clothes.</p>
<p>Pate surged upward on her tiptoes, pressing herself against him, gripping him around the middle as she kissed him everywhere she could reach; his lips, his cheeks, his neck, laughing, hardly daring to believe that it was over and they had made it out together.</p>
<p>His severed tentacles left an ache in him, but it wasn't like he was going to skip on down to the Netherworld to see about getting them cauterized or patched up. Maybe someday he'd deal with them. They'd fester until then, but it wasn't something he couldn't handle. As they were dripping ichor, he willed them all away, and stood with his normal hands around Pate under the blazing sun.</p>
<p>He took her hand and rotated it, pressing a kiss into her palm.</p>
<p>"My darling brother's mark is fading," he told her, rubbing his thumb over the sigil. It flaked off, leaving her skin clean. "You fulfilled your part of the contract when you handed the book to him. He has no claim on you, baby."</p>
<p>She smiled, a swelling feeling in her chest like a balloon inflating as she watched him kiss her hand. Sagging against him, awash in relief and exhaustion, she nuzzled his soiled shirt with her equally soiled face. </p>
<p>"What about you?" she inquired. "Your shoulder's bleeding again, and your tentacles? Will they grow back? And . . . shit, your <i>clones</i> are still down there?"</p>
<p>"I'll be fine," he half-lied. "Don't worry about me."</p>
<p>Pate cast an eye over her shoulder, unwilling to part from him to look at what remained of the hellmouth. It had decayed at a supernaturally rapid rate, already nothing more than an enormous ancient skull that was on the cusp of crumbling into dust. She reached up, brushing away a gob of congealing saliva from his jaw, cupping his face. A thought occurred to her and she chuckled.</p>
<p>"Y'know, they say once is an accident, twice is coincidence, three times is a pattern. Horrifying danger followed by mind blowing sex might just be our thing now, baby."</p>
<p>He leaned into her hand, despite the fact that it was now covered in the tacky saliva. "Let's just get back to the hotel. Believe it or not, I want to clean up. Then we can see where being naked together in a shower might go, baby."</p>
<p>With that, he took her hand and led her back to the car.</p>
<p>
  <i>tbc . . .</i>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They were much more conspicuous strolling through the lobby coated in filth than they had been when they first arrived, even with Beetlejuice's striped suit and green hair. When the elevator doors opened and the two of them shuffled inside, none of the others waiting to go up stepped forward to join them. As the doors slid shut and the elevator began to ascend, Pate and Beetlejuice looked at one another for a long moment before she simply burst out laughing, unable to contain it anymore.</p><p>Nothing was particularly funny. She was sore and achy, scuffed and bruised, but still basking in the knowledge that they'd done what they set out to do. It was over and Beetlejuice was with her. She leaned into his side, her arm slipping around his waist. </p><p>"You saved me again," she said, smiling. "I'll have to come up with some way to reward you. That's how it always goes in the movies, right? Luke blew up the Death Star and then he got a medal?" Pate tipped her head back to meet his eyes, grinning. "I don't have a medal, but maybe I can think of something else?"</p><p>"Reward? Like cleaning out the mini bar and getting tickets to see Cher?" he asked innocently, but with raised eyebrows and a smirk.</p><p>Pate huffed a laugh through her nose, letting her head nod back against his chest and bringing up her other arm around his middle to give him a squeeze, humming contentedly. </p><p>“I feel like you’re joking, but in all seriousness, Beej, if that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do.” </p><p>She felt his chuckle rumbling against her cheek. Pate stepped around in front of him to meet his eyes, a delicate fluttery warmth blossoming inside her at the look on his face; the confident, crooked grin, the half-lidded amber eyes with their long lashes, glittering with promise.</p><p>“You’ve taken such good care of me, Beej,” she said softly. “You’ve helped me, protected me, forgiven me, comforted me. You rode across the country with me and fought demons with me. I never could have done any of this without you. And really… you didn’t have to, not any of it. But you did anyway. So tonight, I wanna take care of you.” </p><p>As she spoke, her arms came from around him, her hands trailing from his back to his sides in tender caresses.</p><p>It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that her life had been completely transformed by his presence in it. He made her feel braver, stronger, like she could take on anything as long as he was with her. As strange and unusual and recent as their meeting had been, Pate honestly couldn’t imagine being without him now. She opened her mouth to say so, but the elevator stilled and chimed as it arrived at their floor, so instead she smiled at him again and took his wrist in both hands, backing into the hall and tugging him with her. It would be much more fun to show him instead. </p><p>“Let’s see about that shower first, and then we’ll go see Cher.”</p><p>He followed along with a goofy smile. It had been a long time since he'd been sincerely appreciated; he didn't think that Pate was lying about anything she just said, and that was almost enough to make the cold dead fist sized lump in his chest start beating again. He couldn't help but wince a little as she tugged him through the door of their room; she inadvertently gave him a little extra jerk and that made his shoulder flare in pain again, but he covered it by surging forward and planting a kiss on her mouth.</p><p>That contact made his libido kick his painful shoulder to the curb, for the moment.</p><p>"I'll have these clothes off us in a second, baby," he muttered against her lips.</p><p>Her fingers still interlocked with his, Pate reached through the open door to switch on the bathroom light, turning back around just in time to find him moving in to capture her lips with his. She let his momentum propel them both back through the doorway into the gleaming tiled bathroom, sighing deeply and angling her head, squeezing his hand with her own while the other pressed to his stomach, sliding up towards his chest.</p><p>When he broke away just enough to speak she opened her eyes and saw him raising his free hand, preparing to snap their clothing away. The hand on his chest darted out and clasped around his fingers. His head turned to look, first at their hands and then at her face, bemused. Pate smiled and shook her head simply. </p><p>"Uh-uh," she teased. "No magic snapping tonight. <i>I'm</i> taking care of <i>you,</i> remember?" </p><p>She pressed a few more soft kisses to his stubbly chin and his mouth, reaching up with both hands to loosen his tie before slipping it off over his head and depositing it on the counter beside her.</p><p>Mindful of his injured shoulder, she slid her hands up his chest, over his collarbones to shuck his jacket, letting it drop to the floor. She raised her eyes to his face, watching intently and nibbling on her bottom lip as she began undoing the buttons of his shirt. In between she paused, leaning in to favor each bit of newly revealed skin with a warm, wet kiss starting at the hollow of his throat and progressing slowly but steadily down his chest, stopping just above his naval and the waistband of his trousers.</p><p>She was serious about this 'taking care of' thing. He stood, mostly passively, as she worked knots and buttons loose and open, as she carefully exposed his skin. It ached to twist his shoulder out of his jacket sleeve; he could only imagine what fully removing his shirt was going to feel like.</p><p>"Not gonna just let me keep this shirt on till my shoulder's better? It could use a wash under the shower too--" he said, half-joking. She ignored his attempt at humor and he interrupted himself as she popped the buttons. "--oh! I guess this is nice too--"</p><p>For a second time he cut into his own sentence, but this time to groan as her mouth sucked gentle marks down his torso. He didn't know what to do with his hands, so he stood awkwardly with them half raised. When she made it just to the top of his trousers, he brushed her hair out of her face and held it messily in his fist. He urged her back up for a kiss.</p><p>"This is a fancy Las Vegas bathroom, baby, but the bed's pretty fancy too. Sure you don't just want to make housekeeping earn a big tip?"</p><p>Pate grinned against his soft stomach as he moaned, the deep sound vibrating through him and subsequently through her lips as she kissed her way downwards. She took note of the reluctant tone to his rapid-fire jabbering, humming appreciatively when she felt his hands sweeping her hair back and bunching it between his fists, tugging her back up and into his hungry mouth. Her hands traveled up with her, snaking up his sides, across his chest and over the piercings still concealed by his shirt before slipping up either side of his neck to the base of his skull. Her fingers delved into his hair, scratching lightly at the scalp while she slotted her mouth with his, shivering at the press of his cold lips and tongue probing at her warmth.</p><p>She huffed a breathless laugh at his suggestion. </p><p>“Well, this <i>is</i> Vegas, so I’m sure they’ve seen worse,” she quipped. “But I don’t know that I could cover the gratuity if we made too big of a mess.” </p><p>Her arms still draped around his neck, Pate continued dragging her nails through his hair, massaging his scalp as she smiled at him, leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. </p><p>“But tonight is for you. So you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I, however, am gonna hop in the shower.” </p><p>Taking a step away from him, Pate hoisted her shirt off and dropped it to the floor, keeping her eyes on his as she shimmied out of her probably ruined jeans and quickly divested herself of her underthings.</p><p>Tiptoeing around him to the open shower she turned on the water and stood with her back to him, waiting for it to warm to her liking before stepping under the spray, letting it sluice over her head and shoulders, tipping her head back under the water. Even with the bathroom door standing open the mirror began to fog. Pate hummed tunelessly as she squirted body wash onto her loofa, working it into a lather between her hands. She smiled as she dragged the sudsy sponge up her arms, feeling his eyes watching her.</p><p>She left him standing there mostly dressed with half a boner while she coyly stepped into the open shower. And now she was making a show of cleaning herself: the water spraying, suds, throwing her head back to expose her throat while pushing her wet hair back, accidently-on-purpose turning her back to him as she bent over to wash her legs . . .</p><p>That half boner evolved into a raging hard on seeing her there.</p><p>Fuck it.</p><p>She said she wanted to take care of him. Toeing off his shoes took another few moments, then Beetlejuice stepped into the shower, still mostly clothed, with her.</p><p>Pate was still humming to herself, in no particular hurry as she rinsed suds off her body just under the showerhead. She did wonder how long it would take him to crack, grinning privately. She had noticed that he showed . . . not trepidation about water or baths in general, more of a genuine disinterest. She supposed it was a demon thing.</p><p>Her small, secret smile widened into a full grin when she felt him move in behind her. His arms circled her middle, one hand raising to fondle her breast, his head dipping to press his open mouth to the curve of her naked shoulder. She could feel his erection through the clothes he hadn't bothered with taking off, sending a delighted shudder up her spine as she leaned back into him, reaching behind her with one hand and sliding her wet fingers up his neck and into his hair. </p><p>"Changed your mind?" she teased, wrapping her other arm around his.</p><p>"Mmmphff," he replied, through a mouthful of water that he'd gotten from kissing her facing the spray.</p><p>Less than a minute, and he was already mostly soaked. He shivered at her fingers dug into his hair, then moaned as she wiggled her ass against his groin. The water was surprisingly warm too; he'd forgotten how nice it was to have external warmth surrounding him.  At that, he turned her she faced him and also that his back was to the spray, absorbing the majority of it. Then he hissed, having forgotten that water on the shoulder that'd been torn open wasn't going to feel great.</p><p>He shifted so that shoulder wasn't hit directly by the hard spray, and ignored that his shirt stuck unpleasantly to his back. He kissed Pate, keeping her held tightly to his front. Her skin felt slick under his hands, and they moved smoothly from the nape of her neck to the swell of her ass, giving it an appreciative squeeze.</p><p>Pate grimaced at the pained sound he made, shuffling accommodatingly with him when he maneuvered them to keep his shoulder out from under the spray. </p><p>"I'm sorry, sweetheart," she murmured against his mouth, pressing as closely as she could against him while his hands glided over her body, down her back to her butt. She hummed happily as his fingers kneaded the flesh, peppering the open neck of his dress shirt with kisses to the moistened skin that was warming in the water.</p><p>His clothes were soaked through, the striped shirt practically see-through now, showing off his shields and stiff nipples. Smiling, she slid her palms up his torso to circle her fingertips around and around the hardening buds through his shirt. </p><p>"I think we can probably lose this now, don't you?" she asked with another impish grin, tugging the hem free of his waistband. </p><p>She unhooked his suspenders rather than drag the one over his shoulder, taking great care to peel the sodden shirt off him one arm at a time to minimize the stress on his injury. All the while an almost endless and largely meaningless stream of praise and soothing words left her lips in between gentle kisses pressed to his chest, his neck, his bicep, wherever they happened to land.</p><p>At length they got his shirt off and tossed it carelessly to the back of the shower stall. Pate reached up with both hands and swept his drenched hair back out of his face, sweeping it straight back over the crown of his head. </p><p>"Not so bad, right?" she asked, hands trailing from his head down to cup his jaw between them. "Is your shoulder okay? I hoped maybe the heat might help it some."</p><p>He let her strip him, stealing kisses when he could. Her fingers were nice on his piercings; what was nicer were her palms, applying a little more pressure to them, sending spikes of pleasure into his chest. He returned the favor, rolling her nipples between his thumb and finger, and even interrupting her attempt to get him naked by bending over and taking one into his mouth. Her skin was warm, of course, and the inside of his mouth as he suckled wasn't. He liked the contrast and didn't release her until she forced his head away.</p><p>She pushed his soaked hair back and up, and he shook his head like a dog, flinging more water everywhere. As his hair was immediately drenched again it was futile, and it tweaked his shoulder a little, so he didn't repeat it.</p><p>"It'll be fine. It's good," he fibbed, more interested in other, more carnal things at the moment than his dumb injured shoulder.  "It seems there's one thing missing from this shower, Pate."</p><p>He gave her a second to look around them, brow furrowed, before answering himself, with a devilish grin.</p><p>"There's no bed in here. How'm I supposed to fuck you through the mattress if there's no bed in here?"</p><p>With his fingers teasing her nipples into points, as pleasurable as it was (and it <i>was</i> pleasurable), Pate steadfastly continued her attempts to at least rinse the worst of the grime off him. When he took it upon himself to latch onto a breast with his mouth she gasped and arched at the sensation; the steaming water and her own heated skin contrasted with his cool tongue and lips had arousal pooling in the pit of her stomach, thumping in her pulse points and in between her legs.</p><p>Judging by the strained fabric at the front of Beetlejuice's pants, he was more than ready to go. And truthfully, so was she, but she wanted to take her time this round, to show him what he meant to her and how glad she was to have him in her life. Which meant she was going to need to cool them both down, just a little bit, to make this last. Breathing deeply, willing herself to remain composed she smiled up at his observation. </p><p>"Don't you worry, Bug," she cooed, her thumbs circling the points of his hips. "We'll have plenty of time for that. We've got all the time we want."</p><p>She turned off the water and grabbed a couple towels from the shelf mounted next to the shower. Briskly drying herself, Pate also toweled off Beetlejuice's hair while he wriggled his way at last out of his drenched and clinging pants. His hardened cock sprang free as he slid his tatty boxer-briefs down, nestled in pubic hair that was tinted distinctly pink, like the rest of his hair. Smiling at him, both of them still slightly damp and warm, Pate gripped his waist and pulled herself flush against him for another kiss. </p><p>"Go lay down for me?" she murmured into his mouth. "Let me take care of you?"</p><p>After a rough toweling and his cock being trapped against her, he'd have done just about anything she'd asked. He nodded feverishly at her request even if he wasn't quite sure what she meant, and led the way back to the bedroom, flopping down onto the mattress.</p><p>She giggled as he bounced on the bed, his damp hair fluffy as bird's down. Pink was crawling up the soft green strands from the roots, darkening even as she padded over and seated herself, still every bit as naked as he was, on the bed next to him. Pate smiled fondly down at him, his lips slightly parted in anticipation, eyes riveted to her face as she stroked a hand through his hair. Even the minimal washing had made it so much softer, silky between her fingers, and her smile widened when he let his head roll to the side, into her touch.</p><p>Shifting closer, her leg bent under her while the other dangled off the edge of the mattress, Pate leaned in to press her mouth to his again, supporting her weight on her elbow so she could keep her hand in his hair while the other wandered his body; her thumb brushing across the apple of his cheek, stroking his scruffy jaw and down his neck, scratching lightly through his chest hair. </p><p>"I wanna make you feel so good, Bug," she breathed against him in between hot presses of their lips against one another. "I wish I'd done it sooner." </p><p>She let her head fall next to his, lavishing hot open mouth kisses to the side of his neck while her scratching fingers roamed lower, following the wispy trail of hair from his belly to his groin.</p><p>She felt him tense, heard him gasp as she just grazed the head of his cock. "I wanna taste you, baby. Would you like that?"</p><p>He was already losing the heat he'd gained from the shower, so it was nice Pate snuggled into his side. Her hand and fingers felt good too, scratching along his skin, tickling him in the best way. He couldn't help but moan at something as simple as her nails in his scruff; that particular caress happened so few and far between he never remembered how much he liked that until someone did it.</p><p>He could pound nails with his cock, and nothing had really even happened yet. Needily, he opened his mouth against hers, straining upward to keep the contact as long as he could when she pulled back to breathe.</p><p>Her words too, sent a shiver through him. It was rare enough to be non-existent that someone wanted to take care of <i>him</i> that he wasn't quite sure what to say or do. He thought he should touch her, return the caresses, just fling her over and go to town rutting, but she settled even more comfortably with her head against his.</p><p>"Y-yes?" he faltered. He cleared his throat and tried again, as difficult as that was when her hand brushed his cock. "Yes, please, fuck, Pate!"</p><p>Random monosyllabic words should convey it, right?</p><p>His enthusiastic consent, slightly raspy and edged with desperation, excited her. She sucked delicately on the sensitive skin just behind his ear, kissing her way around to his face as she raised herself onto her knees. Pate giggled when he sat up as much as he could to keep their mouths in contact as she moved away, her hands trailing down his body as she went. Finally he collapsed back into the pillows, watching her with lust blown eyes as she settled herself between his legs.</p><p>There really was no more point in teasing him, he was already so hard. She could see a glistening bead of pre-cum at the slit. Her heart hammering in her chest, as much with nerves as with arousal, she stroked her hands up and down his thighs and made a confession. </p><p>"I've, um . . . never actually done this before. So you'll let me know if I'm doing it right?" </p><p>She'd held him in her hand already, so she wasn't too shy to settle in and wrap her hand around him. At her touch, Beetlejuice let out the most gorgeous cross between a gasp and a moan and the sound went straight to her pussy. She could feel the wet heat between her own legs but that could wait.</p><p>Keeping her eyes on his face, watching for his reactions to see what he liked, Pate started out slowly, simply kissing up the underside of his shaft along the thick vein that ran there. When she got to the head, she lapped at the precariously perched drop of fluid and then experimentally took him in her mouth, just a bit, to get used to the feel and the taste of him.</p><p>It took a lot of willpower not to buck up against the moist wet heat of her mouth. But after her confession, he didn't want to do anything brash like gag her and turn her off it completely. Still, he couldn't help reaching down and catching the side of her head as she made it to the top of his shaft and put her lips around him. When her tongue lapped at him, caught between her lips, he closed his eyes and groaned. He forced himself to hold very still.</p><p>She stopped, and he opened his eyes again to look down at her, looking up at him with a slightly worried look on her face.</p><p>"Don't tease," he warned lightly, but with a smile, interpreting her expression that maybe she'd done something wrong. "You're doing fine, baby. Your mouth feels so good, I just had to concentrate on something else for a sec. You know, think about baseball stats and Sandworm incubation facts and stuff like that."</p><p>He brushed the hair off her forehead, then thought that maybe holding her head was going to be too presumptuous, so he released her and put that hand to his side.</p><p>Pate smiled around his cock when his fingers found their way into her hair and the delicious moan that escaped him. She could feel the tension in his thighs, the muscle taut and straining and she worried for a moment that she'd hurt him. At his smile and words of reassurance, it occurred to her that it was the other way round: once again he was taking her feelings into consideration ahead of his own. She'd already admitted her lack of experience, he must be restraining himself so as not to spook her.</p><p>Though she didn't think she was quite ready to take him all the way down, she was determined to return the consideration. Taking him in her mouth again, a little further this time, running her tongue around and around him, hollowing her cheeks, she then got her hands involved as well. She grasped his shaft lightly in one hand, pumping minutely while the other reached up to locate his hand. Catching his fingers, Pate tugged his hand back down and pressed it to her head. It was nice to have the guiding contact, helping her find the rhythm he wanted. When his hand curled once more into her hair, she let her own fall from his and trailed her fingers down his hip, giving his balls a gentle exploratory tug.</p><p>That wet heat made him groan again; so similar and different than a pussy, all at the same time. Her tongue never stopped, and when she applied some suction, he clenched his fists into the bed linens while his thighs tensed. She hadn't taken her hand off him either, and that added a little extra novel stimulation too.</p><p>Her reaching for his hand and prying it off the sheets made him open his eyes and watch her put it back into her hair, and with her permission now he had her bob at a little faster pace.</p><p>"Fuck, baby," he moaned, "your mouth feels so good--I fucking love it--use your hand a little more, give me a little squeeze--ah--!"</p><p>The unexpected fondle on his balls made him jump. His fingers slipped out of her hair to her jaw, and he lifted her head just a little so she'd look at him. She did not take her mouth off him.</p><p>"Hah--easy, easy down there, baby," he chuckled. "A little bit goes a long way, 'kay?"</p><p>Her nod made his cock slide into her mouth again, and he couldn't help but moan wordlessly at the sight. His free hand went to the same side's nipple, and he rubbed his piercing to make pleasure slip through his body from both erogenous zones.</p><p>She may say she was inexperienced, but he wasn't going to last long.</p><p>All his little moans and gasps, his fingers twitching against her scalp, his legs taut as bowstrings to either side of her while she stroked and sucked him. He looked so good like this and Pate found herself torn. Part of her was eager to see how much more he could take, how many more sounds she could coax from him, if she could make him tremble and shake. She felt sure that she could, he was clearly very close already.</p><p>But god<i>damn</i> did she want him inside her. She wanted his arms around her and hers around him. She wanted his mouth on her, she didn’t even care what part. Though her cunt was aching dully, neglected while she devoted all her attention to him. Since she had made up her mind that this was his night, Pate decided to leave it up to him. She took him in as deep as she could, drawing slowly back until he slid from between her lips and leaving his cock coated in saliva as she idly continued stroking with one hand. Smiling as she watched him play with his own nipple, her other hand traced up and down his forearm. </p><p>“How bout it, Beej?” she asked. “Want me to keep going or would you like a break?”</p><p>A break. A break was good. Good--</p><p>The climb up the ladder was bliss, but it got more precarious the closer he got to the top, and he wasn't sure he'd have been able to prevent coming if Pate hadn't taken it upon herself to give him a second to recoup.</p><p>He picked up his head and looked down at her, smiling up at him coyly, her lips shiny from spit. Idly she pulled his cock like it was nothing, like she didn't realize her hand was of the best things in the fucking world at the moment and she was going to make him come in a just a few more stokes--<i>or maybe she did--</i></p><p>"Pate, baby, please, your mouth--please?" he begged, sounding needy in his own ears. "It was so good, it <i>is</i> so good--!"</p><p>He cut himself off with a keening whine as she took pity on him and closed her mouth over him again.</p><p>His voice, desperate and needful, <i>begging</i> for her, made her throbbing pussy clench. Dutifully she bent back to her task, sighing in gratification at the high-pitched whine he let out as her lips encircled him. She didn’t suck too hard, wanting to savor seeing him coming apart for her like this, but she did bob her head, laving the underside of his shaft with the flat of her tongue, flicking at the flared head. He seemed to enjoy the additional stimulation provided by her hands, so she let them roam as far as they could reach; up his inner thighs, over his hip bones, dragging her nails over his stomach.</p><p>Despite the fact that Beetlejuice didn’t need to breathe, he was panting, his mouth open and his eyes tightly shut. He continued mercilessly teasing one of his pierced nipples, now a hard, bright red bud. She moaned against him in her mouth, the vibration making his hips move in a frantically aborted jerk as he keened right along with her. He was close, then, so close, but there was one more thing she wanted to do. </p><p>Slipping one hand up to his chest, she palmed his neglected nipple, scratching around the shield while she moved her mouth off his cock and replaced it at once with her other hand when he whined again at the loss of contact. His entire groin was slick with her saliva, so she continued pumping him with her hand, nosing at the hot pink nest of pubic hair before taking his balls between her lips, first one and then the other, sucking gently.</p><p>Pleasure was a solid mass in him, expanding to fill each and every inch. He was rapidly losing the ability to think coherently. His chest was on fire; Pate wasn’t overly gentle as her hand went to his nipple and stimulation to his piercings made them ache in the most delicious way. </p><p>He whined at the loss of her mouth and she immediately stroked him by hand, that was good, good, her mouth had wet heat but her hand had pressure--she slipped further down, out of the reach of all but the tips of his fingers, he managed to pick up his head to see what she was doing--all the hair on his body was as flamingo pink, like he’d been spray painted--then her glorious mouth was on his balls and that was a fourth spot that threw fuel on the blaze of euphoria inside him--</p><p>Through the unending moans, he managed to babble, <i>“Fuck-fuck-fuck--</i>Pate, I’m gonna come--<i>I’m gonna come--”</i> to warn her.</p><p>It wasn’t soon enough. That pleasure was at its tipping point. He tensed involuntarily and cried out as he came. A rope of jizz exploded from his cock onto his belly; her fist had been high on his shaft and got covered too. </p><p>For a second he was lost in himself, riding the wave of pleasure. Everything in the universe seemed to pause and he drifted back to reality slowly, gradually realizing Pate was still between his thighs.</p><p>He groaned and tightened his fingers in the hair on her head that he could reach, urging without words for her to come back up. </p><p>Pate’s ministrations slowed but did not stop as Beetlejuice went rigid all over, his cock twitching in her hand as he found his release and spurted translucent cum over his stomach. She kept stroking and sucking while he rode it out, drinking in his ecstatic cry and the reedy moans that followed that initial spike of pleasure. When he finally went slack, sagging heavily into the bedspread she sat upright between his legs, smiling at him. Every bit of hair on his body was bright pink, his amber eyes glassy and a drunken grin on his face. Her hand was still curled loosely around him, growing soft but still dripping. She leaned into his reaching fingers for a moment, humming happily, before dipping her head to take his cock between her lips once more, eliciting a whimper at the contact to his already overstimulated head.</p><p>She didn’t suck hard or go down far, just enough to catch the trailing rivulets of cum before they slid down his shaft into his hair. Pulling back up and releasing him with a soft <i>pop!</i> she repeated the process on her own hand, keeping her eyes on his as she licked away the sticky residue. </p><p>“We made a bit of a mess, didn’t we?” she purred, her pussy fluttering excitedly at the look on his face as she raised herself onto her hands and knees and began crawling over him. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” </p><p>Watching his expression as long as possible while she lowered her head to his soft, rounded belly, Pate pushed her hair back with one hand while she lapped at the spattered release dotted across his abdomen.</p><p>The taste of it was salty and earthy on her tongue, almost like grass or moss with a tinge of something slightly acrid. A long, low moan left him as she dragged her tongue and lips over his skin, wicking away the chilly smears with her mouth and working her way up his chest where she paused long enough to press a soft, warm kiss to his red and stiff nipple before settling finally at his side, nuzzling into the side of his face. </p><p>“I take it you liked that?” she giggled.</p><p>Her soft tongue dragging itself over his skin, through the hair on his belly, lapping up his come, seared itself into his mind's eye as one of the sexiest fucking things he'd ever seen. Top five, easily.</p><p>And the soft kiss on his overworked nipple made him twitch. He nodded in response to her question, and caught the back of her head to pull her in for a deep kiss. The taste of himself in her mouth made him groan deep in his chest, and his free hand roamed down her body, making a pit stop to cup and knead her breast and roll her nipple to a hard nub.</p><p>When she needed air, he still kept her close.</p><p>"It's not gonna take long for me to be ready for you again," he muttered into her open mouth, dropping his eyes to indicate his groin. "But what would you like to do in the meantime? What would you like me to do to you, baby, or is it dealer's choice?"</p><p>Pate sighed through her nose, letting herself melt into him as their mouths moved against one another. She moaned when his hand found her breast, kneading the pliable flesh and teasing her nipple. Her leg draped across his thigh, hooking her foot around his calf while one hand pressed flat to his chest. Coming up to breathe was annoying but necessary, her hand gliding up his sternum to cup his jaw while she panted against his lips, their eyes locked together at least until his darted downward toward his crotch.</p><p>His murmured words made her shiver, the throbbing heat between her legs not abated in the least, and she chuckled. </p><p>"Well, we are in Vegas," she replied. "People come here to gamble and, I gotta admit, I'm feeling pretty lucky." She leaned in to pepper his neck with more soft, wet kisses. "I'm game with whatever you wanna throw at me, Beej. I trust you."</p><p>Her leg over his pressed her groin to his thigh, and from the heat of her pussy it was more than obvious she’d been turned on without him doing anything more than laying back and letting her have her way with him. The least he could do was return the favor.</p><p>He glanced up and back to take stock of the headboard of the bed. Bolted to the wall, it seemed, and that was perfect. Twisting without telling her his intentions, Beetlejuice tossed the pillows off the bed, and then turned his attention back to her. </p><p>Drawing a hand down her side and stretching to reach the lower swell of her ass, he pulled upward as he said,</p><p>“I think I’m the lucky one. Come on baby. Crawl up me and have a seat right here.”</p><p>He licked his lips through a smile and raised his eyebrows so there was no mistaking exactly where he meant.</p><p>She gave an appreciative purr against the column of his throat when Beetlejuice's hand slid down to grab at her ass, tugging insistently for her to reposition herself. The unmistakably suggestive smile, his tongue gliding over his lips and the desire smoldering in his amber eyes had her insides squirming again, arousal bubbling low in her gut like molten metal, threatening to overflow.</p><p>A little uncertain, Pate got her limbs underneath her and rose up onto her knees beside him. Bracing herself with one hand to the headboard, Beetlejuice's own hands coming up to grip her hips and help keep her steady, she positioned herself so that she straddled his head. Her heart felt like it was trying to beat its way out of her ribs, keeping one hand on the headboard as she looked down the length of her body at his face. His eyes were practically glued to her pussy, but she reached down with her free hand to run her fingers through his hair and get his attention. </p><p>"Don't-don't let me hurt you, okay?" she said, her voice faltering on her a bit. "If you need to stop, you stop."</p><p>The pressure of her thighs around his head, the intoxicating <i>heat</i> of her, her most intimate area practically in his mouth -- it took him a second of her applying increasing pressure pulling his hair for him to break his gaze on her pussy and look up her body to her eyes.</p><p>Her legs trembled, and he wasn't sure if it was from anticipation or from the effort of keeping herself up off him. From the look of apprehension on her face, it was probably the latter.</p><p>"You can't hurt me, baby," he told her. "Non-breathing, remember? But if you need a break, if you to tap out, you're gonna have to let me know--"</p><p>With that, without waiting for a reply, he lifted his head the short distance between them and closed his mouth over her pussy.</p><p>She was going to point out that with his injured shoulder, yes, in fact she <i>could</i> hurt him without meaning to, particularly with the position they were in. But any words that may have tried to form were lost in the surprised yelp that forced its way out as he dove right in, finally <i>finally</i> touching her where she was most desperate for him.</p><p>Pate fought to keep herself from going totally slack against him and depositing her full weight on his face, even as her head lolled back and her eyes slid shut at the feeling of his lips working against her, his tongue delving into her folds.</p><p>The hand still in his hair tightened into a fist, tugging the soft, bright pink locks while the arm on the headboard went ramrod straight as her thighs continued to strain and shake around his head. </p><p>"Ohhh, fuck, Beeeeeej," she moaned. "Baby, that feels <i>so good."</i></p><p>The taste of her flooded his mouth and he groaned his appreciation. After first trying to cover the entirety of her and hearing her yelp as he did, he grinned and relaxed, licking her slowly from cunt to clit, over and over. </p><p>He tried to watch her but she’d arched a little backwards so he had no view of her face. Closing his eyes instead, he focused on her in his mouth. He explored her, and learned what she liked: dipping his tongue into her like a thinner, more mobile cock, sucking her folds, discovering her clit and using a combination of suction and lapping and humming so his mouth vibrated against her. </p><p>Her hand tight in his hair helped guide him to what she wanted. </p><p>One thing he didn’t like was her still trying to be considerate and hold herself up a little. Taking her by the hips, he pulled her down forcefully onto him, chuckling as she gasped and struggled for a moment, before he made her moan from pleasure again. </p><p>“You taste so good, baby,” he said in her ear, even though his mouth was fully occupied. </p><p>She had already been so wet, so ready for him that now with his tongue prodding in and out of her entrance and circling her clit, ecstasy was pulsing from her cunt outward into her furthest nerve endings like bolts of lightning. He surprised her when he yanked her down onto him, his big hands and long fingers grasping her by the hips to hold her in place.</p><p>When he chuckled the vibration tingled through her entire groin and she whimpered, biting at her bottom lip while her hand carded through his hair. Hearing his voice in her ear while his lips and tongue were buried in her pussy made her groan as a shudder went down her spine, her hips rolling slightly against his mouth. </p><p>“God, Beej, I'm close," she rasped, and it was true. That tightly wound spring in the pit of her stomach was going to give any second.</p><p>She'd finally stopped struggling to stay off him, and even rocked her pelvis harder onto him, which made him grin. Her fingers tightened in his hair, a good ache, and he focused on her clit, holding it lightly between his lips and applying steady pressure with the flat of his tongue. Occasionally he shook his head minutely, for some variance.</p><p>When her thighs trembled around his head and she cried that she was close, he was relentless,  increasing the pressure, the suction, on her.</p><p>Into her ear he whispered, "That's good baby--come for me? Come on my mouth, come in my  mouth--such a good girl--"</p><p>Gripping her tightly, he kept her in place.</p><p>She felt his hands grip her harder, fingers pressing into the flesh as he ravished her clit with single-minded attention. A high, strangled cry escaped her, core muscles tightening and arching her forward to watch him, panting and moaning breathlessly as he egged her closer and closer to the edge.</p><p>"Beej, shit! <i>AH!"</i> she whined, burying both hands in his magenta hair while her hips juddered against his mouth. </p><p>She didn't want to go too hard, but she was so close now it was almost agony. She raked her nails over his scalp, whimpering as she teetered there on the precipice. She felt him hum against her, his eyes opening and raising to meet hers and the coiled spring snapped at last. Pate let out a wordless cry as she came against his mouth, bracing her hands against the headboard again as pleasure wracked her body in wave after wave, each a little gentler than the last until they subsided and left her trembling, nearly bent double over Beetlejuice's head between her thighs.</p><p>"Baby, oh my <i>god,"</i> she whispered, almost close enough to kiss his hairline.</p><p>Pate's cries of pleasure were muffled, but there was no denying her body's reaction. He grinned as wetness flooded his mouth and chin, and as she couldn't contain herself, squeezing her thighs around his head and fingers gripping his hair so hard it hurt until she had to support herself against the headboard.</p><p>He stayed in place, continuing to lap at her swollen clit gently, wanting to draw out her orgasm as long as she could stand it.</p><p>It took her a little time, but eventually she moved herself up and away from his mouth. He did stretch upward to plant one more kiss on her pussy as she did, smiling impishly.</p><p>"I guess that was okay then, baby?" he asked while she panted and continued to tremble over him. </p><p>Difficult as it was to lift herself off him with legs turned to rubber, Pate eased back down to the mattress beside him, propping on one elbow so she could lean in to kiss him. She moaned into his mouth at the taste of herself on his lips and tongue, her hands unable to keep from cupping his face between them, tracing through his hair, down his neck, skating over his chest.</p><p>She huffed a breathless laugh at his self-satisfied question, but try as she might she couldn't come up with anything clever to say back. Just as he'd predicted, though, Beetlejuice was indeed growing hard again, she could already tell. Smirking at him, Pate kissed a trail from his lips, pecking his chin and his neck all the way down his chest to a nipple where she proceeded to wrap her lips around one of the shields, strumming the rosy bud with the tip of her tongue and humming against the silver circle.</p><p>Teasing and using their mouths all night? He could get behind that. Her kisses were nice; he arched his back and hissed as her mouth closed over a piercing.</p><p>His cock throbbed though, and he wondered if she wanted something a little more than just what they'd already done. Despite quite enjoying her playing on his chest, he caught her hair in his fingers and urged her back up to his mouth. When she complied, he kissed her deeply. As she relaxed into it, he grinned impishly and without preamble flipped her to her back so he was finally on top of her.</p><p>At her gasp due to the sudden change in position he grinned even more widely and leaned down to kiss her again. That move strained his healing shoulder, so he went to an elbow on that side and did his best to ignore it.</p><p>She could have happily continued mouthing at his nipples for a good long while, particularly when the sensation made him arch so prettily off the bed. But Beetlejuice seemed to have had enough of teasing for the time being, and Pate’s surprised gasp turned into a delighted laugh when he abruptly rolled them over and pressed her to the bedspread, pinning her under his body. The feel of him, every inch of him, crushed against her made her heart race again, that squirming, fluttering starting up in the pit of her stomach once more.</p><p>Pate smiled against his mouth when he dipped his head to catch her lips in another deep kiss, running her fingers through the short, fine hair at the base of his skull while she wiggled into a more comfortable position underneath him, dragging the heel of one foot up the back of his leg. His erection, sandwiched between them and digging into her abdomen, made the muscles in her pelvic floor clench.</p><p>“I take it this means you’re ready to go again?” she giggled, nipping softly at the juncture of his jaw and his neck.</p><p>She'd laughed and wiggled so teasingly under him. She'd also kept him close by wrapping her leg over his.</p><p>"I think you already know the answer to that, babydoll," he groaned.</p><p>He shifted, pushing himself upward just a little off her. Walking his hand down her side, making a pit stop to cup her tit and plucking her nipple to a peak, he slipped his hand between their bellies and took his cock by the base. Rocking his hips back, it was easy to drag the head of his cock along her slit. Just that felt good, so he did it again, and again. pausing each time as though he was about to slip into her. If he wasn't pressed so tightly to her, he'd have watched his own hand, but as it were, he watched her expressions as he teased.</p><p>He repeated her question back to her. "You ready to go again, baby?"</p><p>A tiny, breathless moan left her when his tip brushed along the length of her lips. Tingling heat prickled her skin, from scalp to toes, as he repeated the motion several more times and she gasped with each tantalizing pass, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. The warm tingling settled in her nether region, pulsing anxiously at Beetlejuice's teasing.</p><p>Between that, the bite of the chilly nipple shields that periodically grazed so perfectly against her own nipples, his husky voice tickling her skin . . . it was almost too much to take. Pate arched up against him, angling for a kiss but missing the mark and pressing her forehead to his brow, her parted lips gasping against the corner of his mouth.</p><p>"Fuck, Beej, <i>yes</i> need you so bad, baby," she all but whined, her hands grasping at his neck, the side of his head, his upper arm braced against the mattress.</p><p>He chuckled, about to tease her for her neediness, but she'd be able to turn that right back on him too if she wanted. So this time, when his cock slipped smoothly down her folds, he hesitated only another moment before rocking his hips forward, dipping the tip into her pussy.</p><p>The immediate heat made him groan, and he pushed forward. There was a little resistance--he could've used a little spit for lube--but the friction was divine and he didn't stop until he was buried fully inside her.</p><p>Beetlejuice moaned, a long thin sound as his groin met hers. He paused, and held himself up off her with one solid and one shaky arm.</p><p>"Fuck, baby--you feel so fucking good--" he panted. </p><p>Pate bit back a whimper at the pressure as he pushed himself inside, gradually relaxing around his length once he was fully hilted. She sighed at his moan, at the <i>sublime</i> feeling of fullness in her pussy and his body flush against hers, reaching up to press a hand to his cheek. His stubble scratched at her palm, her thumb brushing the curve of his jaw while the pads of her fingers rubbed idly at the soft, delicate skin behind his ear. She smiled at his breathless words.</p><p>“So do you, sweetheart,” she murmured. “God, I love how it feels to have you inside me.” </p><p>She turned her head, pressing kisses to his bicep up toward the front of his shoulder, about to hoist her legs around his waist and assure him that it was okay to start moving. But she paused a moment, feeling the tremble in the taut muscle against her lips, and just like that she remembered his injury.</p><p>“Beej, are you okay like this?” she asked, concerned, bringing up her other hand to hold his face. “Do we need to move? It’s fine if you can’t stay like this, honey, we’ll work it out.”</p><p>He couldn’t still his hips; the drive to thrust into her was a primal need. He was able to simply rock them, however, smaller, more delicate movements that still made bliss flare inside him. At Pate’s questions, he stopped again, buried deep inside her. That might have been a poor choice, because the tight heat of her pussy threatened to shut down higher brain function. </p><p>He pushed himself up a little off her and looked down. She was beautiful under him, her eyes dark with arousal and pleasure, her lips shiny. Her chest heaved from her breaths and her tits were perfect. Her belly pressed against his and her legs wrapped around his waist and thighs; this was sublime. She was perfection below him. </p><p>In the precious seconds it took to be able to try and answer her his injured arm started to shake. </p><p>Despite the obvious physical response to her question, he shook his head. </p><p>“No, no--I want this, I wanted you under me, I wanted to do the work--” he groaned. “I want to make you feel good, baby--”</p><p>He cut himself off with another groan. </p><p>Truth be told, <i>she</i> wanted this, too. The weight of him on top of her, pressing her down into the mattress, the delicious friction produced when his hips rocked so gently into her. It was all so <i>damn good.</i> She was desperate for more and she wished she could just wrap her limbs around him and take whatever he had to give, to give him everything she had to offer. But the pinched, pained flicker that crossed his face, the tremor that shook his rigid arm as he held himself up, trying so hard to solider on despite the obvious pain he must be in, all for her. Her thumping heart seemed to swell inside her chest, her hand idly stroking the side of his face as an idea began to form.</p><p>“Hey, what about your tentacles?” she suggested. </p><p>It felt like such a weird thing to say aloud in a sexual situation, but at the same time she felt dumb for not having thought of it sooner. At his questioning look Pate elaborated, tracing her other hand down the back of his upper arm as she said,</p><p>“That way you can relax your shoulder and we can still stay like we are. Because as much as I like having you on top of me, I don’t want it causing you pain.” </p><p>She traced his bottom lip with the pad of her thumb, eyes searching his face.</p><p>“How’s that sound, Bug?”</p><p>Her suggestion cut through the pleasure and the ache. He stopped completely, and stared down at her with wide eyes. There was no way he'd heard her correctly.</p><p>"My--what? W-what?" he stuttered. </p><p>When he stammered like he'd misunderstood and went stock still, she did worry that she might've totally ruined the mood. She craned her head up, pressing her lips to his in soft, warm kisses, trailing across his cheek, tugging his head down to reach his forehead with her mouth, doing her best to soothe the distress from his features.</p><p>"You don't have to if you don't want," she assured him first and foremost. "It was just an idea, take the weight off your arm, use one of your tentacles to hold yourself up. I want this to be good for you, too, sweet boy."</p><p>Even surprise didn't prevent him from automatically returning her kisses, but he didn't close his eyes as he tried to wrap his head around what she'd said.</p><p>His shadow mass? His tentacles? They were frightening appendages. No one who saw them wanted to see them again; usually they never wanted to see <i>him</i> again. He'd been sent away more than once when a breather got a look at them, and him looking more demonic than not. And Pate suggested them?</p><p>He said, "Pate, baby . . . I  . . ."</p><p>Then he was stuck. They were monstrous. <i>He</i> was monstrous with them.</p><p>". . .  I . . . that's not . . . I mean. You'd be . . . <i>okay</i> with that?"</p><p>Pate laughed lightly through her nose, tilting her head and taking the mixture of awe and disbelief on his face. She smiled warmly up at him, lightly stroking her fingers up and down his jaw, brushing the corner of his lips with her thumb. Her fond smile only widened when he leaned into her touch, like he wasn't even aware he was doing it.</p><p>Even after everything they had been through together, even though they were lying in bed together, him literally inside her, he always seemed so certain that he was just about to be sent away. Given what she'd gleaned about his experiences before they met, Pate had no trouble understanding why, as much as it saddened her to think about.</p><p>She could understand why he would be hesitant to show his more demonic self to her again, but every time she had glimpsed it before he had been protecting her, saving her. She'd been startled by them at first, to be sure, but she was no more afraid of them now than she was of him. So she told him so.</p><p>"Of course, Love Bug," she replied, still smiling at him, still cradling the side of his face in her hand. "They're part of you. There's nothing about you that I'd be not okay with because... I like you, Beetlejuice." </p><p>She used his full name, knowing it would get his attention and hold it.</p><p>"I like you a lot. All of you. You don't have to hide anything about you from me, okay?"</p><p>It still took him several moments of trying to fully understand what she proposed and that she said she was okay with it. Those several moments made his shoulder ache so much he couldn’t control the tremor in his arm. </p><p>Pate was smiling up at him. She was still holding his face. She hadn’t kicked him off her--for which he was more than grateful, because laying atop her still buried in her heat was sublime, even if his brain was short-circuiting for a different reason than shared pleasure. He supposed there’d be plenty of time for her to plant her feet on his chest and shove him away, once she realized what she’d suggested was a mistake. </p><p>With a thought, with a sigh, Beetlejuice brought forth one tentacle from his shadow mass. A second and third followed it; releasing just one made it difficult to prevent others from slipping through the ether. With concentration, he didn’t allow others. </p><p>One, as per her suggestion, went to the mattress to bolster himself. As soon as it seemed solid, he relaxed his arm, and she was right; it helped immensely. The other two, the ones he would have preferred not to have at the moment because one was enough for a breather to try and handle, gently explored her, one at her shoulder, the other her waist. They nudged along her skin and the one higher on her body dipped down to her tit. When it realized her nipple hardened, it wrapped around the bud and seemed content to apply pressure at random intervals.</p><p>Beetlejuice had closed his eyes and his lips were a thin line. He imagined a horrified expression on her face, but she hadn’t gasped, screamed, or shoved him off her yet, so cautiously he cracked his eyelids again to look down at her. </p><p>She couldn't help the tiny surprised gasp that escaped when not one but three of the writhing tendrils of shadow appeared, as if slipping through a gap between reality and some other world. Or were they always there, albeit invisible? Pate watched curiously, fascinated by them as one pressed firmly down into the mattress by her head while the others tentatively moved around her body. Beetlejuice let out a soft, relieved sound as she saw his arm relax, the tentacle taking the weight with practically no effort. </p><p>Seeing them again with no dire life-or-death situation taking center stage, Pate wondered at them. They appeared prehensile, acting independently of one another as they glided over her skin, or perhaps they had a sort of intelligence of their own? They had a weight and a mass to them, almost like the muscled, tubular body of a snake but instead of cool scales they felt like velvet, smooth and surprisingly soft. Her questions evaporated when the tentacle exploring her upper body found her breast, curling around the nipple and squeezing much like Beetlejuice would with his own hands. She gasped again at the feeling, her hand reaching up to wrap around the black mass and hold it encouragingly in place. </p><p>Above her, Beetlejuice's expression was one of someone braced for an imminent explosion or crash, his lips pulled into a tight, thin line as he peeked at her. She grinned at him as the tentacle continued its gentle kneading, the hand still on his face skritching at his stubble. </p><p>"There now. Is that better?" she asked, glancing meaningfully at his shoulder.</p><p>“Oh baby, is it ever,” he groaned, and wondered how he could explain he meant both the ache in his shoulder and the fact that extra appendages were feeding him sensations as well. </p><p>Now his cock was deep in the wet heat of her pussy, and two tentacles were exploring her skin. It was <i>divine.</i> He rocked his hips, just a bit, to test his balance, and fresh pleasure bubbled up deep in his belly. Moaning, he leaned down and kissed her. It might be wrong to think about how it would feel to have more of his tentacles wrapped around her, now that it seemed she wasn’t horrified, but the inkling was there. </p><p>He thrust into her with a little more intent, and dropped his head to her neck, taking a bite of her skin between his teeth as he groaned. </p><p>Pate's eyes slid shut, humming happily and nibbling her own lip when his hips gave a small, perfunctory roll into her pelvis, feeling herself clenching minutely around him as they began working back up to the pleasure and the momentum they'd lost. She folded her arms around his neck when he dipped his head to hers, opening her mouth invitingly and sighing against him as his tongue delved in.</p><p>One of her hands slid into his hair,  fingernails scratching at the back of his head to keep him close while the other wound under his arm and around his back, tracing random shapes over his skin. Likewise, the two tentacles not occupied with supporting him continued stroking along her body, the one still squeezing delightfully at her breast, the other coiling around her thigh. She hiked both legs up higher, around his waist, gasping when the shift in position actually allowed him to sink deeper into her.</p><p>"Oh, <i>god</i>, Beej," she moaned against his ear when his thrusting became a bit more deliberate. She hissed, tightening her grip in his hair when she felt his teeth on her neck. His groan vibrated against her skin as he began to find his rhythm and Pate moaned again, the sensations fogging her brain in need and want. His cock pumping into her, his mouth at her pulse, his clever and enthusiastic tentacles exploring her skin as if committing the shape of her to memory.</p><p>"That's it, baby," she moaned in between open mouthed kisses to the side of his head. "Oh fuck, Beej, just like <i>that!"</i></p><p>Her words of encouragement fueled his hips and he drove into her. He’d ever get enough of her: her sounds, her warmth, the feel of her skin against his . . . she was a goddess and he ached for her. </p><p>Despite the fact that she obviously enjoyed having her tit manipulated, the tentacle left off. The closer he got to the pinnacle of orgasm, the harder he fucked her, and the two tentacles that had squirmed their way into existence slipped between Pate’s lower back and the mattress, elevating her hips so he could have a better angle to go deeply into her pussy. </p><p>It shifted his position too, making his pelvis cant so he had to sit up a bit. He pulled her legs to his shoulders. .</p><p>That eliminated most need for the support from the third tentacle, and it took the place of the one at her chest, a thicker section of it covering and applying pressure to her nipple, while the tip stretched upward and felt along her lower lip and corner of her mouth, before the tiniest bit of it slipped between her lips. </p><p>As his pace increased, Pate's mouth fell open and a litany of gasps, moans and broken speech spilled out. She shivered when she felt the sleek, smooth tentacles curling beneath her, lifting her off the bedspread. She gasped when he sat them more upright and slung her legs onto his chest, her feet framing his face while he held her thighs and she couldn't contain the tremulous whimper that came out when the change in angle caused his thrusting to hit dead center on a spot that took her breath away.</p><p>Her eyes closed as bliss continued to well up inside her like a pot just begging to boil over. The third tentacle, no longer necessary to support him, took to coiling itself around her breast, rhythmically squeezing while the tip played with her bottom lip. God how she wanted to kiss him, but she couldn't reach just now. So she wrapped her hand around the tentacle like she had his cock not so long ago, opening her mouth and guiding it in to explore, her other hand fumbling for and then landing on his thigh.</p><p>With her legs held to his chest, Pate could feel the bite of the cold nipple piercings against the back of her thighs, the rumbling in his torso as he moaned along with her, his hands digging into her soft flesh. She was rapidly becoming overwhelmed by the myriad of sensations building, a wave that was going to drag her under any second now. The angle of his cock driving into her hit that spot again and again and heat was flooding through her body.</p><p>"Beej! Ah! Fuck, baby, <i>don't stop!"</i> she cried, her own hands tightening on his thigh and the saliva-slick tentacle that continued to nudge at her face. "God, baby, I'm gonna come!"</p><p>Her laid out before him, his cock enveloped by the wet heat of her pussy and the tentacle dipping into the wet heat of her mouth for a split second, the beautiful moans from her--it was more than  he could have imagined when she’d accidentally called him up so many days ago.</p><p>Even without her telling him, he knew she was close. There was a tremor in her that hadn’t been before. The hand on his leg squeezed. Her voice hitched. Her cunt tightened, relaxed, and tightened again. Through a haze of his own mounting ecstasy he let her guide him to what she needed; deep and at an angle that seemed to elicit the most pleasure in her. </p><p>He wouldn’t last much longer, but Beetlejuice kept his eyes locked on the woman below him.</p><p>“Fucking <i>good,</i> baby,” he praised, as he thrust into her. “Come on my cock--fuck! I wanna feel you come on my cock--”</p><p>He had to cut off his own sentence to concentrate on not coming himself, working hard to let her finish first. </p><p>His words of encouragement, hoarse and punctuated by grunts of effort, his burning amber eyes that held hers, watching her face, egging her on...</p><p>The intimacy  of the steady eye contact was almost too much to stand, accompanied by the unflagging rhythm of his hips, his hands clasping at her thighs hard enough to bruise, his cock so perfectly hitting <i>that spot</i> with each inward thrust and his head dragging against it with each pull back. The tentacle at her chest was still at work, kneading and squeezing first one breast and then the other and then both. She moaned and whined, feeling muscles tighten in her core, in her legs, straining to reach the peak. Finally, all but screaming his name, Pate crested the wave and pleasure exploded through her body, her legs shaking against Beetlejuice's chest, her hips doing their best to move in time with him to ride it out as long as possible.</p><p>"Come with me, baby," she breathed, still adrift in the undulating ripples of euphoria, turning her ankles to curl her feet around the back of his neck.</p><p>He watched as she couldn't help break eye contact with him, as her orgasm dragged her away. His name from her lips made him smile, briefly, before his jaw loosened with the pleasure continuing to mount in him. He'd have liked to stop moving for a moment to savor the sight and feel of a beautiful woman falling apart below him, but the drive to keep fucking her was too much.</p><p>Through her orgasm, Pate's pussy contracted and released around his cock, adding increased friction. As he leaned over her, her ankles locked around the back of his neck, drawing him further down. Although two tentacles were still wrapped under the small of her back, supporting her, he slipped his weaker arm under her too, making her arch just a little more, shifting the angle of her hips and lighting up nerve endings he would have thought were already overstimulated.</p><p>He dropped his head and cried out. He was almost there, <i>almost there--</i></p><p>Pate placed a palm directly over one of his piercings and squeezed, sending a shockwave of slightly painful pleasure coursing to add to the molten feeling in his belly. That, and her breathy little command were his undoing.</p><p>With a howl, Beetlejuice came deep inside her cunt, holding her tightly until his cock stopped throbbing.</p><p>Pate worried her bottom lip between her teeth, moaning and shuddering at the sensation of his cock twitching inside her as Beetlejuice followed her into bliss. She kept her hand over his nipple, kneading gently around the sensitive nub as his body began visibly relaxing against her legs still pressed to his chest.</p><p>Unhooking her ankles from around his neck, with just a little insistence he let go of her other leg and she shifted her position slightly before slipping them back around his waist, crossing them at his back and urging him closer.  At the same time she levered herself upright using her legs wrapped around him as leverage and took his face in both hands, sighing contentedly at the feeling of his arms joining the tentacles around her as she slanted her mouth against his.</p><p>"What d'you think?" she gasped between hot, lazy presses of their lips together, smiling against him. "Better than Cher?"</p><p>Slowly he drifted back from his high as Pate readjusted underneath him. He'd have gotten  off her completely, but she seemed content to have him lay atop her. He didn't put his full weight on her, however; he supported himself a little with his tentacles. They seemed sated too, moving lazily.</p><p>He tucked his forehead into the crook of her neck and shoulder.</p><p>"I don't know. Cher's pretty awesome," he replied, and when she flicked him with her fingers, he laughed. "It was a joke! This was a million times better than Cher."</p><p>Eventually he did move off to her side, his injured shoulder up. His tentacles retreated and he reveled in just relaxing beside her, warm and comfortable. Just being able to kiss her whenever he wanted was wonderful.</p><p>As they lazed contentedly, he mused, "I wonder what my beloved brother is doing right now."</p><p>Pate shuddered dramatically, told him to forget about his shitty family, and gave him a kiss that included some teeth on his collarbone.</p><p>Beetlejuice grinned and pinched her in retaliation. She giggled and he laughed, happy.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Epilogue: Rigel's End</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Damp and angry, Rigel pushed passed the moaning dead simpletons waiting in line at Mother’s office, and tapped his foot. His shoe squished unpleasantly on the floor while he waited first in line at the reception desk. The noise was distracting, so with increasing annoyance he switched to tapping his finger on the glass partition until Miss Argentina deigned to return to her vacated chair. </p>
<p>She gave him a blank eyed stare, unimpressed. </p>
<p>He muzzled his irritation.</p>
<p>“Mi tesoro. Mi amor!” he praised. “¿Por qué no vienes conmigo? Te trataré bien . . .”</p>
<p>“Vete a la mierda,” she spit back..</p>
<p>He winced and grabbed his chest over his heart, as if her rejection hurt.</p>
<p>“So rude!” </p>
<p>Her expression didn’t change. “Ve a la mierda con tu madre, gilipollas.”</p>
<p>That did wipe the smile from his face. </p>
<p>“Just buzz me in, bitch.”</p>
<p>Rolling her eyes, she did. Rigel marched through the door like he owned the place and didn’t currently look a mess: disheveled, slimy wet, and pissed off. As he passed Miss Argentina, he hissed, </p>
<p>“You wish you were lucky enough to fuck me.”</p>
<p>She rolled her eyes again, gave him the universal one fingered gesture of contempt, and swivelling her chair away back to the window, made it very clear she was ignoring him. </p>
<p>Rigel stomped through the maze of desks to his mother’s office. Every lowly office worker pointedly ignored him as well, but he didn’t care; this scum and their opinions meant nothing to him. They were simply jealous of him and his status, any of them would give anything to have the pull he did, he was <i>Cecil Rigel Venandi,</i> The Hunter Also Named Torment, and he could do what he wanted--</p>
<p>“Rigel, comb your damn hair! You look like you’ve been bum-rushed through a paper shredder!”</p>
<p>“Yes Mother,” he agreed meekly, trying to smooth his mussed hair back into place as he opened the door to her office. </p>
<p>As always, dear old mom sat at her desk behind towers of paperwork, smoking. Her eyes were bright, taking in more of him than he ever wanted to show, and he felt less like a demon in full command of his infernal power, and more like a child about to be scolded. </p>
<p>“You smell like a garbage chute. What the fuck have you been doing?”</p>
<p>“I’ve been <i>trying</i> to contain Lawrence, Mother! He’s topside again!” Rigel exclaimed, pulling at the hem of his jacket to straighten it so he looked more presentable; his hand came away sticky from hellmouth saliva. He tried wiping his hand on his trousers, and only managed to get tiny bits of something unpleasant stuck to his palm. “He shacked up with another dimwitted breather, and wormed his way into her pants--she managed to call him up and--”</p>
<p>“How? How’d she call that waste of space?”</p>
<p>“She had a copy of <i>Ens entium collectio infernalia.”</i> </p>
<p>At hearing the title, Juno perked up, even as her son continued. </p>
<p>“Lawrence must have shoved one of his stupid flyers in there and the breather was even more stupid enough to summon him--”</p>
<p>“Of course she did. I don’t know what kind of influence he manages to embed into those fucking flyers. Might be something to look into.”</p>
<p>Rigel pinched his lips together at the second interruption, but didn’t say anything about it. </p>
<p>After giving her a moment to think about her observation, he continued. He was proud to relay this part to his mother. “Because she’d opened the book, I was able to influence her and she called me up too. Big brother was there, of course, already imprinted and attached to her like a goddamn puppy. We fought and I got half the book--”</p>
<p>“You did?” </p>
<p>He didn’t let her derail him this time. “--and I used it to call Dziban to assist so I could get the second half of Fuch’s book--”</p>
<p>“Dziban? That thing? Couldn’t you have gotten something a little more powerful?” she said disapprovingly. </p>
<p>Rigel ducked, a little. </p>
<p>“I only had half the book,” he whined. “Fuchs wasn’t the best about keeping things organized in his little notebook. You know that, Mother!”</p>
<p>Juno raised her eyebrows and looked over the tops of her glasses at that little outburst, and instantly Rigel reeled it back in.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, Mother! I didn’t mean to raise my voice.”</p>
<p>Placated but still frowning, Juno waved the cigarette held between her fingers to indicate he should continue. </p>
<p>“So Dziban attacked the two of them and injured Lawrence. The woman knew when they were beaten, though, and agreed to give me the other half of the book if I, quote, ‘left them alone’.” He grinned, showing too many teeth. “Breathers never think about everything, and she never thought to include that other family members--such as you, Mother dearest!--would continue to have access to her.</p>
<p>“They thought they’d trick me,” he continued. “They called up a hellmouth--remember those old things? She gave me the book, as promised. I was having a civil conversation with Lawrence--” Juno snorted her disbelieving response to <i>that,</i> “--and that bitch pushed me into the ‘mouth. Joke’s on her though; I grabbed her too and we went down together. Ended up in the lowest level, surrounded by the bones of deceased hellmouths.”</p>
<p>Purposefully he stopped there, not relishing relaying the rest of the story. Omissions were lies, but sometimes necessary. He smiled triumphantly. His mother stared blankly back at him.</p>
<p>“And?” she prompted. </p>
<p>He blinked. “And what?”</p>
<p>“And did you get the second half of the book, you imbecile?!” she spat.</p>
<p>He ducked again. “Oh! Yes! Yes I did!”</p>
<p>With a flourish, he dug into his jacket’s inner pocket and extracted it. He dropped it on her desk right in front of her. </p>
<p>“Rigel, what in the fuck is this?”</p>
<p>Her hissed question was not the pleased or excited response he’d expected. He’d expected accolades and praise, and his mother’s hiss of disapproval stung. </p>
<p>“The book . . .?” he replied, wincing that it sounded like a question instead of a firm answer.</p>
<p>“The book?! <i>This is a soggy, ruined mass of nothing!”</i> his mother screeched. </p>
<p>In horror, Rigel took a real look at the half of the book he’d procured. She was right; it was gummy from the hellmouth’s saliva and the fucking holy water Pate had used and fucking stupid Dziban--the old parchment had been damp too long. Panicked, he grabbed it back and tried to open the pages. They stuck together enmass and tore in his hands. Ink rubbed off and stained him as well. It was useless. He almost sobbed.</p>
<p>“What about the other half of the book?” Juno asked in a dangerously low voice. </p>
<p>Almost frightened to present it but unable to disobey, he reached into the opposite inner pocket of his jacket and extracted it. It was in the same unusable condition. The fighting and wetness had been too much for the ancient book. </p>
<p>Rigel risked a glance back up to his mother. She was sitting back in her chair, staring at him like she wasn’t quite sure what she was looking at. </p>
<p>“Tell me the rest of it,” she demanded.</p>
<p>In a slow, shaky voice, he told her how he and Lawrence fought, how Pate used holy water against Dziban, how Pate had sacrificed herself and pushed him into the hellmouth’s throat--but he took her along with him!</p>
<p>Juno was still unimpressed. “And where is she now, Rigel?”</p>
<p>He was forced to admit that she’d escaped, with the help of Lawrence and you knew about his clones but did you know he had tentacles, Mother, did you know that he--</p>
<p>“Shut up about your brother!” she shouted over his whining. </p>
<p>His mouth shut with a snap. </p>
<p>Juno pinched the bridge of her nose. “You colossal fuck up. You not only couldn’t retrieve and keep safe a book we’ve been trying to locate for centuries, you were beaten by some breather and <i>Lawrence?!</i> I can’t believe how much you’ve fucked this.”</p>
<p>At her words, Rigel shrank a bit. “But Mother, I tried--I wanted to--”</p>
<p>“Shut up!” Juno interrupted. “I don’t want your shitty excuses! You’ve been traipsing around up there, royally fucking things up, and neglecting all the work you have to do down here! This! This is just a bit of the shit I’ve had to deal with since you took it on yourself to get summoned, acting all high and mighty and living large up there!”</p>
<p>She stood up, grabbed a one tower of paperwork from her desk, and shoved it at him. Automatically Rigel took it, juggling to keep it together and not spill out of his hands.  </p>
<p>With her hands on the limited clear area before her, Juno shouted, “Now get back to your fucking desk and get back to fucking work!”</p>
<p>Ducking, he nodded, apologizing and agreeing all at once.</p>
<p>“And take this shit with you!” she finished, chucking the damp ruined books at him. </p>
<p>Burdened with paperwork, he couldn’t catch them, but turned so they hit his shoulder instead of his chest before they bounced to the floor. </p>
<p>“I’ll be back to clean that up, Mother,” he whimpered, and scurried out of her office. </p>
<p>Juno scowled after him. She always knew Lawrence was a screw up, but Rigel? She was deeply disappointed. She went back to her own paperwork. Muttering profanities to herself, she didn’t watch her useless spawn hurry away. </p>
<p>
  <i>fin!</i>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Under Where?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Beetlejuice steals women’s underwear. This time, however, he steals a pair that he is not prepared for.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>An admitted voyeur and thief, sometimes Beetlejuice liked to root around in Pate’s underwear drawer. As he was pretty sure it wasn’t anything she’d be cool with, he did it secretly, like when she was out of the house or in the shower or otherwise occupied. He pilfered a pair of panties every once in a while; she had so many he figured she’d never notice one or two of them going missing. He’d heard her blame the losing them at the laundry mat. </p>
<p>Today he dug a little deeper--Pate’s lacy and fancy panties tended to be buried in the back of the drawer--and he found a pair that was more bikini like than not. Both sides had ribbon ties to hold the front and back panel together, making the size easily adjustable. The crotch felt more stiff than typical, but although he occasionally opted to wear panties, he wasn’t an expert or anything. Maybe that was just the way these were made.</p>
<p>With a giggle like he pulled off some great heist, Beetlejuice stuffed them into his jacket pocket. </p>
<p>The panties were comfortable. The panels were stretchy. The side ribbons were soft and although he wasn’t able to tie them into cute little bows at each hip, knots worked just fine. Whatever the crotch was made out of wasn’t perfect. Who designed panties with some kind of hard plastic there? Maybe it was waterproof or something? But with a little junk adjustment so the majority of the stiffness was up in the front against his cock instead of his balls, it was tolerable. </p>
<p>Pleased with himself, Beetlejuice pulled his trousers back up and over them.  He couldn’t wait till Pate came home; he could just imagine the surprise on her face when she discovered his secret!</p>
<p>The reception he got when she arrived, however, was less than conducive to fun adult times. The hard set to her face and tight shoulders telegraphed that whatever had happened at work had followed her home. He received cursory pleasantries as greetings, but had learned that sometimes Pate needed space and time to wind down. Maybe later she’d be more in the mood for a surprise. </p>
<p>He escaped to the spare bedroom as Pate disappeared into hers. The opening and slamming shut of dresser drawers made him wince, and maybe tonight wasn’t the best night to whistle blow on himself about stealing her underwear. </p>
<p>But it felt so good! It was either silky or lacy, and sometimes it was just a teensy bit too tight, and he liked all that. Especially when it put pressure on his cock, containing it, just . . . like . . . now . . . because he started thinking about it too much and now sported a semi-erect boner. </p>
<p>There’d been no noise from Pate for a hot second, and she’d been so growly that he couldn’t imagine she would want to get it on any time soon. He figured it would probably be best to let her have time to cool down. He could occupy himself!</p>
<p>He popped the fly and undid the zipper of his pants. The juxtaposition of men’s trousers and lacy panties was visually pleasing, and he took a moment to simply look down at himself before slipping his fingers under the waistband of the panties. Under half-lidded eyes he watched his dark fingernails disappear into them, suddenly, with no warning, a heavy vibration exploded through his crotch. </p>
<p>Embarrassingly, he yelped and yanked his hand off himself. </p>
<p>Whatever the vibration was, it stopped. </p>
<p>Panting as though he actually had adrenaline that could course through his veins, Beetlejuice wasn’t quite sure what happened. He was laying on a mattress. A lamp was on the bedside table, but it wasn’t even on. There was nothing electrical around him. </p>
<p>Shrugging it off because he didn’t want to devote time or brainpower to it, he slipped his hand over his belly and back into the panties.</p>
<p>The vibration shook him again.</p>
<p>When his hand left, it took a second for the sensation to cease. </p>
<p>Cautiously, trying not to think of that cat and what curiosity did to it, he dropped his hand between his upper thighs this time, instead of directly into his groin, like an approach from below would be sneakier. This time he gently cupped himself, and although the vibration returned, it wasn’t such a shock. Satisfaction truly was the cat’s reward. </p>
<p>He could feel the hard plastic trapped between his fingers and cock vibrating at a low intensity this time, and now that he wasn’t surprised by it, it sent little tendrils of pleasure up into him. </p>
<p>He gasped, and pressed the curved plastic a little harder into his groin. His cock, still trapped under fabric, stiffened at the new stimulation. His reward was a deeper thrumming, and . . . pulsing! It waxed and waned in a pattern like a heartbeat, da-dub da-dum da-dub da-dub--</p>
<p>Beetlejuice moaned and held his hand tight in his crotch. </p>
<p>The vibration quit again. </p>
<p>It took him a second to catch up.</p>
<p>This whole thing would be better if he took his pants off, he decided. He sat up and made to get off the bed, when the panties vibrated stronger than ever before. </p>
<p>Involuntarily he fell back sideways onto the mattress, curled in on himself, legs clasped together, his hand shoved back into his groin, crying out shamelessly. </p>
<p>The sensation shook him. He was used to jacking off, of encircling his cock and applying pressure all around it, and this was nothing like that. It was pleasurable in a different way, and by god, <i>he liked it.</i> </p>
<p>Keeping his hand pressed up into the seams of his trousers, he stayed on his side for a moment, both to see how the position might work and because he felt immobilized, before flipping to his back. That allowed him to plant his feet so he could rock his hips upward into his hand, into the vibrations, and keep them exactly where he wanted--no, <i>needed--</i>them to be: against the underside of his cock. </p>
<p>The vibrations tingled up into his groin, settling in his gut. Just as he was getting used to it, just as he was catching his non-existent breath and could just start focusing on thinking about something other than what was happening, the vacillations changed. </p>
<p>Once again he had no control over his limbs. His legs left the bed and he folded in the middle as the thrumming assaulted his nerve endings in ever increasing waves. It stopped abruptly, making his cry sound pathetic.</p>
<p>Before he could collect himself, the pulsing rocketed through him again. </p>
<p>He was pleasure tortured over and over and over. Every time he would almost get used to the pattern or the intensity, it would change again. His hand felt stiff from holding that curved plastic tight to his cock, and now his legs trembled in phantom time as well. The soft lace of the panties was stretched tightly by his aching cock. He couldn’t control the sounds that came from his mouth, and he wasn’t going to be able to control just coming soon. </p>
<p>As a matter of fact--</p>
<p>The point of no return was on him. Using his free hand he stretched the panties off the head of his cock, and with a howl, Beetlejuice came in thick spurts on his lower belly. The vibrations, thankfully, wound down; his cock was so over-stimulated it almost ached. Still, once the final spasms faded and the tail end of ejaculate oozed from him, he dropped the panties back into place, not caring that he smeared them full of come. </p>
<p>He lay on the bed with an occasional full body tremor shaking him. The residual bliss that accompanied them made it too late for him to register that Pate had swung the door open and were staring at him. </p>
<p>Caught with his hand in his crotch and her panties stained darker with come, he froze. </p>
<p>The silence stretched between the two of them. </p>
<p>He broke it. “Baby--baby, listen. I can <i>explain!</i> I can explain about this--” he yanked his hand out of his groin and opened it, like that was proving something. “--I mean, these panties are possessed or something, I don’t know <i>what</i> they are, I didn’t mean to--”</p>
<p>All his excuses sounded like he was just rattling things off and hoping one of them would stick. </p>
<p>With dead seriousness, Pate raised the palm-sized remote control she’d been holding. </p>
<p>Beetlejuice’s mouth shut with a snap. He looked at the device in her hand, cocking his head, trying to piece the puzzle together. She watched the light come on in his eyes. </p>
<p>“You were controlling them!” </p>
<p>Pate let a smile cross her face. “Yes! Of course I was! I left these in my underwear drawer for you to find, Beej! Didn’t you think it was weird there was a new pair in there you’d never seen before? Or that there’s a tiny light on the vibrator to indicate it was on?”</p>
<p>Sheepishly, he admitted he didn’t notice either of those things. Pate laughed. He tried to apologize for the mess. Pate told him they were washable. He praised them, and her. She told him it was a good show, and they were something they could share. </p>
<p>He couldn’t agree fast enough. </p>
<p>
  <i>fin!</i>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Gifs to complement Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In case anyone wants to know what Beej looks like in those vibrating panties, it's this:</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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</p><p>and</p><p>
  
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<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Artwork!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A wonderful person and talented artist made a piece of art based on the leaflet Pate finds in the first chapter advertising Bheteljuz. Thank you beyond words, werwulfy, this was a delightful surprise and we love it!</p>
<p>Find her on tumblr <a href="https://werwulfy.tumblr.com/">werwulfy</a> or IG <a href="https://www.instagram.com/werwulfy/">werwulfy</a> for more fun, great art!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
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